


Ascension

by Suzariah



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzariah/pseuds/Suzariah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean Winchester signs up for a psychological experiment without reading the fine print, he's suddenly taking home former angel, Castiel. At first he is unsure how to handle having a new roommate, especially one with a rough past and going through an identity crisis, but slowly they spawn a friendship that grows into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Dean/Castiel Happy Endings Fanfiction Challenge.

 

The office is immaculate, irritatingly so. There's no personality to it whatsoever, if Dean had an office he'd at least put something other than books and paper weights on his desk. Maybe a cool statue or pictures or _something_ that didn't scream complete dickwad.

            "Well, your file checks out Mr. Winchester. Welcome to Fusion Sciences, just look over these documents and sign on the line when you're ready." The woman says. Dean nods, not wanting to be impolite, but extremely tempted to flirt her out of formalness. The overly polite staff and uptight regime they have going is enough to drive Dean insane.

            With a sigh, Dean looks over the documents...kind of. He looks over it about as much as he looks over the directions on how to set up a television. So overall, he has an idea of what he's doing when he signs his name on the dotted line, more importantly he knows he's getting 800$ in a few minutes and more money by the end of the week. Enough to pay off the last of Sammy's student loans, so there's very little they could ask Dean to do that he wouldn't approve of in this situation.

            It's not like he'll have to whore himself around, it's a researching facility, a bunch of nerds in lab coats running around doing chemistry and shit. How bad could it be?

            "Alright Mr. Winchester, you'll be assigned a subject shortly. You are to care for the subject and record all observations as stated in the contract. You will not harm or maim the subject in any way during the course of the study, unless in self-defense, is that clear?"

            Maybe he should've read that contract a little more thoroughly...

            "Uh...yeah. Of course." He says instead.

            The woman stands, it is now that he sees a small name tag that reads "Jo." She seems shorter and younger without the desk to shield her. Her firm, businesslike expression softens when Dean stands as well and offers her a hand to shake.

            "We're glad to have you in the study Mr. Winchester, Ellen will be around shortly to assign you a subject. Please, follow me."

            Dean expects Jo to lead him out the door he came through, but instead he follows her back into the second room behind her desk. For a moment, Dean is reminded vaguely of being lead into the principal’s office in high school, but that quickly vanishes when instead of another immaculate scholar's office, there's a laboratory. Bright white walls and black lab desks, the whole thing. The difference is startling and it takes Dean a moment to take in the bright lights and the ten or more people standing around desks silently taking notes.

            They walk through the laboratory, Jo gestures for him to remain silent and Dean notices several papers on the wall emphasizing the gesture. He wonders if this is the kind of thing he’ll be doing, but why would that require a warning?

            Once they're through that room, Dean is led to a small waiting room with tile flooring and the strong scent of bleach in the air. There's one thing that throws him off, the large glass pane separating him from small group of people. They look like they haven't showered in a week and the bags under their eyes say they haven’t slept in that amount of time either. What kind of experiment is this?

            Jo gestures for him to sit and Dean’s stomach turns at the thought of what he just signed himself up for. "These are the subjects; they've been living underground for their whole lives. You will be taking one of them home with you today, where you will observe their behavior and interact with them. All of them are educated so don't worry about communication. They will understand anything you say. They’ve never been exposed to our world, so if there is something they don’t understand, please explain. We hope that during this time the subjects will learn enough about our world to live comfortably-"

            "Can you please stop making it sound like I'm adopting a pet alien?" Dean snaps, because Jesus, the "subjects" are _people._ He's getting a new roommate, not a new pet.

            "I'm aware that this is unusual." Jo says, clearly holding back her irritation at his outburst. "But believe me, this research will be very helpful and informative to our scientists here at Fusion." It's like a line straight from a script and Dean _hates_ it.

            Dean sighs heavily, his anger falling away simultaneously, "Yeah, I get that."

Jo pinches the bridge of her nose in obvious distress, "Ellen will be with you shortly."

            Dean nods and watches as Jo heads back the way she came. There were a few other people waiting in line behind Dean to get into Jo's office, one of whom said his name was Andy. Dean wonders if any of them know what they're signing up for.

            The people behind the glass pane look…strange. Not dangerous, but unknown. One of them is going to be coming home with Dean, not that Dean's entirely opposed to company, but this assignment is out of Dean's realm of comfort. He's going to have to watch someone? All the time?  He doesn't want to be a complete peeping tom and watch them shower or anything, but what if that's required?  He already signed the stupid contract.

            Plus these people have been living underground, what are they going to do? Tear up his home or something? He doesn't know how these people lived, how did they even survive underground for that long?

            The only person Dean’s ever had to take care of in his life was Sammy, and God knows how tough that was sometimes. Worth it, but it was far from easy.

            "Fuck me."

            "No thank you sir. That kind of research is in hall H."

            Dean shoots up to look at the woman who must be Ellen. Her humor is a small relief from the constant politeness, but her presence means he's getting his very own human lab-rat to take home,

            "Maybe I should have signed up for hall H."

            Ellen smirks, "Maybe you should have, you sure got the looks for it. Too bad you didn't." She gives him a small pat on the shoulder before returning her attention to the small clipboard in her hands. She makes a note before looking back to him. Dean's nerves are practically vibrating, he's glad he forgot to eat this morning, otherwise he's be might start puking from the anxiety.

            "Alright, Mr. Winchester. I want you to look at those people in there. Those are the subjects as the boss calls them."

            "Jo?"

            Ellen laughs, "No, Jo's my daughter. She's just trying to get a promotion. She hates that little office and all the paperwork."

            Dean smiles, he likes Jo a little more now.

            "Now, Mr. Winchester-"

            "Dean." he offers. Enough of that Mr. Winchester shit. Mr. Winchester was an asshole.

            Ellen grins, "Now, _Dean_. I want you to look at the subjects. Just look at them for me, please.”

            He’s tempted to ask why, but does as she says anyway. Maybe he’ll get to pick, which might be worse than her assigning one. Knowing his luck, he’ll probably pick one who has pyromania or is homicidal. Or both.

            The people inside clearly have no interest in Dean, or maybe they just can’t see him. The glass doesn’t look like a one-way mirror, but what does he know?

            “Can they see me?” He says, voicing his curiosity.

            “Yes.”

            There is eight people on the other side of the glass, he wonders why they’re kept separate from everyone in the first place. They look a little dangerous, but they could just break the glass if they wanted to. The doors inside don’t look locked either, so they’re not being detained?

            “Why do you have this here?” Dean knocks on the glass. This is so wrong, it shouldn’t feel like he’s looking at animals in a zoo instead of people.

            “Not sure, boss’s orders. They aren’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re worried about. If you ask me this is a waste of time, they’re all pretty normal, just a little old-fashioned for their age.” Ellen says. Her words are reassuring to Dean, enough to guide his gaze back to where they all stand behind the glass.

            The first one that catches his attention is a petite red-head, couldn't be older than twenty-five. Her eyes are downcast, her hair partially shielding her face. She's pretty, Dean thinks. Even with all the dirt littering her clothes and the way she slumps in exhaustion.

            His eyes then travel to a taller dark skinned man, his expression is more disgruntled than the others, as if he knows exactly what he's in for. Dean can't blame him.

            Behind him are another two men and a woman, but Dean sees right past him when he notices someone huddled against the wall. It looks like he's trying to make himself smaller to avoid interacting with the others. He looks a little dirtier than them too, his grizzly scruff and dirt ridden trench coat speak for themselves. The man's eyes rise to meet Dean's, seeing through the small crowd of subjects.

            "Subject 13." Ellen says. "He'll be perfect for you."

            Dean pulls his eyes away from trench-coat's gaze. "Which one is 13?"

            "The one you were just staring at, Winchester."

            Dean's eyes widen and he looks back to catch Subject 13 standing, as if he's heard Ellen's words and is preparing himself to go.

            "Doesn't he have a real name?" Dean asks instead, he's not going to call the guy number 13 the whole time, that's just demeaning.

            Ellen sighs, "I'm sure he does, but he wrote down 13. Here." Ellen hands him a manila folder. "Open it, it's his file. You'll have to sign your name beside his to confirm that you accept this responsibility."

            Dean looks at this document more thoroughly; it's basically saying he'll care for the subject until his allotted time is up. Dean goes to sign his name on the line, besides 13's signature, but something about his signature looks...familiar.

            "It's in Enochian." Dean blurts out. He didn't even know he still remembered Enochian. Looks like his Father's crazy obsession is finally good for something.

            "What?"

            "Enochian. See, there's a dash through the three and the script is weird like that because it's a letter, not a number." Dean explains. "It's the letter C, I think. Haven't seen this in a while though, could be wrong."  Dean scratches the back of his head nervously, not wanting to overstep his bounds. He really doesn't know anything about Enochian, but why would Mr. 13? There's no reason for him to know it, so he's probably wrong anyway.

            Except, when he turns back to the glass, Subject 13 is right there, grinning in approval. He didn't think the glass was that thin...

            Ellen's smiling too, "Is that right 13? This is actually a C?"

            The man nods, and Ellen promptly leaves the room with a smile on her face. Her unexpected departure is short lived, since a few moments later she appears on Mr. C's side of the room to escort him out. C waves hesitantly goodbye to the other subjects, it's a little less emotional than Dean imagined. He figured they'd all be waiting in line to hug him goodbye or something. Maybe these people don't get as emotionally attached to others as his culture does. Dean will probably have to write that observation down.

            Ellen reappears on Dean's side of the room with C at her side. This close, Dean's a little nervous. The sheer amount of dirt is more apparent, like he's been rolling in it. He can tell that his trench-coat had probably once been a beige color. 

            "Dean Winchester, this is Subject 13, or now that you've enlightened us, Subject C." Dean feels a pang of irritation that he's still referred to as 'subject," but at this point, there's really nothing to do about unless C tells them differently.

            "Hey, man. Nice to meet you." Dean says awkwardly, offering his hand. C looks at his hand for a moment in contemplation, as if the gesture confuses him, before reaching out and taking Dean's hand in both of his. His hands are smooth and warm around Dean's. The gesture reminds him of the way an old grandmother or a priest might shake his hand. C’s touch is careful, gentle. Dean's not sure what to do about it, but thankfully C removes his hands before Dean feels more uncomfortable.

            "He hasn't spoken yet, but maybe you'll be the one he talks to, Dean." Ellen says, smiling kindly as Dean signs his name next to the Enochian script on the contract.

            Dean laughs nervously, “Yeah...maybe," Maybe, that's if they even make it back home.

            xxx

            Things go relatively smoothly for the remainder of his stay at Fusion. Both Dean and C sign a few more papers. Dean thinks C finds it funny that the researchers don't know his name, there's an amused smile on his face every time he signs his Enochian signature. 

            Dean finds it kind of funny too, as Ellen is explaining to the other researchers that the papers were signed in Enochian and not the number 13. They all ask Dean how he knows Enochian, but Dean waves them off. He'd rather not go into that story today.

            An hour later, Dean is finally paid $800.00 in full and another $1,000.00 for C's living expenses, which he will receive again in two week intervals. Apparently, Dean signed up for up to a whole month max, much more than he originally thought, but he's not complaining since he's getting bonus money in the process. He doubts his new roommate will live on more than $1,000 in two weeks, unless the guy needs some sort of medical expenses Dean doesn't know about, but that seems unlikely. All the guy needs right now is a shower and some sleep from the looks of it.

            They're released from the facility and Dean feels a little awkward when he holds the Impala door open for C and the man doesn't get inside. C is staring at it, as if the gesture confuses him.

            "Have you never seen a car before?"

            C shakes his head, a frown on his lips.

            Dean feels bad for the guy, "Well you're in for a treat then. This is baby, she'll get us home. Just...hop in."

            He obliges, getting in the car a little more hesitantly than most. Dean then gets in the driver's seat and starts the car, C startles when it rumbles to life. He looks somewhere between curious and scared.

            Surprisingly, the drive home is relatively uneventful. C calms down after he gets over his initial fascination with the car's moment. Dean was a little afraid the guy would open the door while it's moving or something, but he was remarkably behaved. He didn't even touch Dean's music.

            "You know, I've been calling you C in my head most of the time. You should probably tell me your whole name, unless you want a hundred freaking random nicknames, because that's what'll probably happen." Dean says once they're on his street, pulling up to his house.

            "Whatever you wish to call me is fine."  C says and Dean's eyes widen. Finally, the guy speaks.

            "You have a full name? 

            C leans further into his seat, "Yes."  

            "Then why don't you tell me?"

            He stays silent this time, just offering Dean a small smile.

            "Fine then, Mr. Trench-coat, be all secretive." Dean jokes, theatrically slamming his door. He can see C let out a small laugh from the inside and it comforts Dean, at least he knows the guy will have a sense of humor, even if he doesn't talk much.

            Dean guides his charge into his small home, C seems a little hesitant. He fidgets nervously in the doorway, fiddling with the belt of his trench coat. He's still pretty dirty, and Dean realizes that he doesn't have anything with him.

            "You need a new pair of clothes to change into? There's a shower upstairs if you need it." Dean says nervously, did they even have showers in their underground society?

            C shakes his head, "No thank you, I do not wish to take from your water supply."

            "It's uhh....no problem. I won't run out of water or anything. Unless you plan to be in there for the next week."

            C's brow furrows in confusion, "Are you sure?"

            "Positive. Take all the time you need." Dean scratches the back of his head nervously. "You want me to get you a change of clothes?" Dean doesn't really mind sharing, he has a bunch of old stuff that the guy can probably wear. Might be a little big on him, but it shouldn’t be a problem.

            "No, thank you for your hospitality." He says, smiling softly. "Would you mind showing me?"

            "Yeah, of course." Dean shakes his head. He's not sure what he imagined when he signed up for this, but it certainly wasn't this.

            Dean points out a few other rooms as they head up the stairs, his bedroom, C's bedroom (it’s usually a makeshift guestroom),  attic, and the bathroom where Dean explains is where the shower is. C seems surprised when Dean tells him he'll have his own room. He looks like he almost wants to object, but he keeps to his silence.

            Dean tries to ignore the mess in his bathroom in hopes that C will as well. He rarely cleans up, rarely has too. He cleans up only when Sam decides to bring friends on his visits to Dean’s house.

            "Alright, do you uh..." Dean pauses, not wanting to make the guy feel stupid, but not entirely sure he knows what to do. "Know how to work this?" he gestures to the shower and C takes a few steps closer examining it for a moment.

            He nods and Dean breathes a sigh of relief, "I'll get you some towels and you’re going to need some different clothes." He knows that C didn't want them, but he can't possibly put his dirt ridden ones back on. Dean is actually surprised he doesn't reek, if Dean was in the same condition he surely would.

            C thanks him as Dean closes the door, his politeness is far less annoying than the researchers at Fusion. C's sounds more genuine, rather than read off like their words are from a script.

            Dean retrieves the towels and some of his older clothes for C to wear. He sets them outside the door for him, before going downstairs and getting his house in order. He cleans up all the empty beer bottles and various articles of clothing lying around. For a moment, Dean considers making sure all the knives are hidden, but decides against it. The guy is not a baby, surely he knows better than to stab himself...or Dean.

            While C is in the shower, Dean should probably write some of his observations down, but it feels wrong somehow. Like he's betraying the guy's trust by giving the scientists what they want. Dean needs to stop thinking of them like an enemy, they are paying him and C signed up for this just as much as Dean did, there's nothing wrong here.

            Still though, as Dean retrieves his pen and notebook, he can't shake the feeling of wrongness. Maybe it's just because he doesn't like thinking of someone as a lab experiment. C in this case is less of a lab experiment and more of a take home assignment, but still. Dean is monitoring his behavior and relaying it to someone he doesn’t know, they could do whatever they want with it.

            Dean writes down a few little bullet points when he hears the water being turned off. Dean stands, stowing his observations away and climbing the stairs. He's knows he's being kind of annoying by hovering, but he can't seem to stop himself.

            The bathroom door is open when he gets there, the towel and clothes still on the floor. C is still fully clothed and soaked.

            "Dude, you know you're supposed to shower with your clothes off." Really, Dean should've known better. If it looks like it's going to be fine, that usually means it won't be.

            C sounds slightly offended, "I know, but I do not possess any other clothes. I thought it'd be more efficient to clean both myself and my clothes this way."

            "I told you, if you need any clothes you can borrow some." Dean says irritably, gesturing to the t shirt and jeans he left outside the bathroom door. "Here, wear these."

            Dean goes to remove the drenched overcoat and finds that C is freezing. "Jesus man, you're like ice. Why didn't you use warm water?"

            "I don't want to waste your warm water supply." He says simply and shrugs. Dean feels he's talking to a rather unselfish wall.

            "Dude, use it if you want. I told you not to worry about it." C's teeth start to chatter from the small draft and that’s fucking it. "Get the hell back in the shower." Dean commands.

            "Why?"

            "Because you're freezing and I'm not taking those clothes off for you. Just come out when you're warm and changed. Use whatever you want as long as you don't break it." Dean says as he runs the hot water. He gestures for C to get in and turns to leave the room when C's hand on his wrist stops him.

            Dean turns, meeting C's thankful stare. "My name...its Castiel." He says, before letting go of Dean's wrist. Dean smiles, understanding the gesture without any further explanation.

            Castiel.

            Dean doesn't remember it being one of the names his father obsessed about. It was over ten years ago now, but he still remembers some of them. Azazel, Lilith, Michael, Gabriel, Lucifer, Raphael. All of them written out in Enochian in Dad's journal.  Dean likes Castiel's name to some extent, as much as he can like an angel name.

            It's another item he adds to the book of random shit to know to know about Castiel. First day and the guy already gives him his name? Score.

            Castiel's shower is much shorter this time and Dean hears him hesitantly exiting the bathroom a moment later. He feels slightly embarrassed about the condition of his house, he doesn't really clean it all that often. It's smaller, good for him. Dean never really needed a lot of living space. Hopefully Castiel doesn’t object. If he does...well, then fuck him. Dean's worked hard to finally have a permanent home.

            Castiel starts down the stairs, looking slightly wary. Dean catches Castiel's searching eyes and damn, the guy cleans up well. Dean's clothes are too big on him, the ends of his jeans running over Castiel's feet. He looks leaner in Dean's clothes, the trench coat had made him seem bigger, more otherworldly. Now he looks good. Real good.  Dean ignores the feeling creeping at the fringes of his mind and instead greets Castiel as if he hadn't just been checking him out.

            "Hey Cas." Dean says. He so didn't already give Castiel a nickname.

            Castiel looks confused, "Cas?"

            "Would you prefer Castiel?" Dean offers.

            "No, Cas is fine. I..." Cas pauses, looking more perplexed by the second. "It’s just...The name is familiar, my sister used to call me by it, but otherwise I've never been called by anything else."

            "Your mom never gave you cutsy nicknames or anything?" Maybe he should be writing this down, will he not get paid if he doesn't write down everything?

            "I've never had a mother."

            Dean swallows thickly at his words. So they have a bit in common.

            "Sorry." Dean says, even though he knows he shouldn't say that because that’s what everyone says.

            Cas's gaze softens, the look of gratitude that Dean's seen way too many times now returning to his features. Maybe that's just how his face falls, all thankful and shit.

            "No need to apologize. Thank you for the clothes...and the shower. I've never bathed in water that warm. It was nice." Castiel says, changing the subject, for which Dean is grateful. It's far too late at night to get into heart to heart talks.

            "No problem. Me casa es su casa, something like that. Make yourself at home." He should probably have got that across from the get go. He doesn't want Cas constantly asking him permission of where he can go and what he can do.

            "You speak Spanish?"

            "Not really."

            Castiel smirks in amusement. "Well, thank you anyway. In that case, would you mind if I retired for the night?"

            "Sure, you can _retire_ for the night." Dean tells him, again with the permission thing.

            Castiel nods and Dean notices the dark circles under his eyes. It's only 9 o'clock, but from the looks of it Castiel will need lots of early nights if he's to catch up on sleep.

            Castiel smiles politely. “Goodnight, Mr. Winchester." 

            "Dean. You can call me Dean."

            Castiel seems pleased, like Dean has somehow lifted a small burden off of him. It's reassuring that maybe Castiel’s own formal behavior will fade.

            "Goodnight Dean."

            "Night, Cas." 

             Cas climbs the stairs slowly, as if he's trying to keep the stairs from creaking as his feet hit each step. Dean's not sure what to make of Cas's strange behavior and overall demeanor. At least he won't be any trouble, Dean's sure of that much. He's clearly too kind and too polite to make much of a fuss. At least, that is his impression, maybe once he's comfortable he'll turn out to be a stoner or kleptomaniac. He's doubtful of that, but it's still a possibility. Dean likes to think of himself as a good judge of character, but he's been wrong before.

            Dean writes down a few more observations, he's not sure if there is a minimum requirement or if he should just write whatever. This thing still makes Dean uncomfortable. He knows that if things were reversed he'd be hesitant; maybe they're offering Cas a shit-ton of money as well. But what would he do with it anyway? Hasn't he spent his whole life sheltered underground or something?

            Dean tries to imagine what kind of civilization Cas was living in as he grabs a beer and sits himself on his couch. He knows very little of what Cas was exposed to in his life, maybe that's something he can make his mission to find out. It must've been a very religious, or maybe just a superstitious society, if they're writing in Enochian.

            Dean feels his eyelids start to droop and he doesn't really have the energy to fight it. Somewhere in his mind he knows he should probably check on Castiel, just to make sure he's not destroying Dean's house, but his tired mind pushes away the worry.  In its place a vast nothingness meets Dean and he lets himself drift off to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean wakes early that morning, and on a surface much less comfortable than his bed. Despite his discomfort, he feels well rested for the first time in what feels like a month. He usually has nightmares of some kind, whether it's just anxiety caused from always worrying about Sam or the stories his Dad pounded into his head since he was four.

            The red numbers on his clock read 6:40 in the morning, much too early. Dean doesn't even have to work today; he could be sleeping till noon.

            Slowly, the day before starts creeping back into his mind. He bolts upright when he remembers the man he brought home last night.

            He stands, legs weak with sleep and heads for the stairs, hoping to catch Castiel before he wakes up. The only problem is, he finds Castiel long before he even reaches the stairs. He finds him in his kitchen, staring out the only big window Dean has. He is still wearing Dean's clothes, which shouldn't be surprising but Dean is still not sure what to make of it.

             The front of Castiel’s dark hair hangs messily over his forehead, while the rest of it sticks at awkward angles. The disorganization seems too perfect, almost like he set it that way, except Dean's is 90% sure Cas isn't the type to spend hours on his hair in the morning.

            He walks silently towards Cas. He's about to announce his presence before Castiel says, without looking, "Hello, Dean."

            Dean stills, "Hey Cas, sleep well?"

            "Yes, thank you."

            Dean pauses, wiping the exhaustion from his eyes. "What're you doing up so early, Cas?"

            Castiel lips quirk up in a small smile, "I wanted to watch the sunrise, I've never seen it before."

            Oh.... Something akin to pain clenches in Dean's chest. His response answers a lot of Dean's questions.

            "Err. Okay, watch away."

            "It's beautiful. I've never seen much of the sky before, even from in here it...it seems so much more vast than I imagined." Castiel goes on and Dean's heart clenches again. He can't imagine never seeing the sky or a sunrise before, they've just always been there.

            "You know, you can go outside and watch if you'd like."

            Castiel's eyes catch Dean's again in that weird soul-staring thing that’s already starting to become a regular thing.

            "Not today, but another time." Cas says, but his eyes are glistening with wonder. “I think if I were to go outside now it would be a little too real.” It's then that Dean thinks he just might understand, Cas is overwhelmed with awe. Taking him out would be too much in one sitting.

            "Yeah, just...let me know if you want to go somewhere. There's lots you'll want to see, I'm sure."

            Castiel is looking all grateful again, so Dean quickly busies himself with breakfast. Does he want burnt or almost burnt toast this morning?

            "There is too much I want to see and not enough time in my life to see it." Castiel says, his tone tinged with longing. "But thank you."

            Jeez, melodramatic much?

            "What is it you want to see?"

            "Everything."

            Well that is a lot of sightseeing, but around the whole around the world in 80 days thing is out of his budget range.

            "Well then, try to see as much as you can I guess." Dean scratches the back of his neck nervously. Should he make Cas breakfast or just tell him to get what he wants? "Uh, what do you want for breakfast?"

            Castiel turns away from the window again, looking baffled, "You do not need to make me anything."

            "Well you gotta eat sometime right?"

            "I suppose, yes."

            Cas makes his way into the kitchen and Dean sets his plate of toast in front of Cas, "Eat up."

            Dean wants pancakes anyway.

            Cas stares at the food in front of him for a long moment, maybe Cas would prefer pancakes as well. "Thank you, again. I've never really been served before."

            "You've never had someone make you breakfast?"

            "Is that normal here? We had a sort of caste system where I was before. I was usually the one doing the serving." Cas explains. "It's just...this is very unfamiliar, is there some way I could repay you for your kindness?"

            "No dude, I made you toast, don't worry about it. And you don't have to serve anyone here, unless you want to." Cas's home is sounding worse and worse every time he opens his mouth. A caste system? No sky? And probably limited water supply from Castiel's comments about his shower. Sounds pretty shitty.

            "This is excellent." Cas comments, gesturing to his toast. "What is this made out of?"

            Dean stares numbly at him, he hasn't even had bread before? What else hasn't he had? Oh, he can't wait to show him pie. "Bread. You've never had bread before?"

            Cas looks contemplatively at his meal, "No, I've had bread, just never in this form. I must admit Mr. Winchester, your world is becoming more appealing by the second." Dean smiles at that. Fuck yes, Dean's home: 1, Cas's underground lair: 0.

            Cas finishes his meal enthusiastically and when Dean finishes making his pancakes, he insists Cas have one because his reactions are just so amusing.

            He chuckles to himself quietly as Cas takes a bite of syrup soaked pancakes, the guy starts practically moaning. What did they eat down there? Dirt?

            Dean mentally takes note of Cas's enthusiasm for food with amusement. He's tempted to take a picture of the scene and put that in the notebook later, but that's pushing it a bit. He highly doubts the researchers at Fusion will find Cas's reactions as funny.

            "That was excellent, thank you." Castiel says and Dean shrugs.

            "It was nothing." He replies, offering Cas a napkin to clean up.

            Dean wipes down the countertop, unsure of what to do now that he and Cas are fed. What is he supposed to do? Just watch him all day? The job requirements weren't really that specific. He wishes he would've asked more questions.

            Dean wonders if maybe Cas would want to talk about his former home more, now that he's talking.

            "So why wouldn't you talk before? You were...quiet."

            Castiel looks up from his contemplation of the countertop and smirks. "I do not talk much ordinarily; this is the most I've spoken in a long time. Back...back home they forbade speaking without first receiving permission."

             "Why?" Dean asks, anger stirring in him. Why the fuck couldn't they speak without permission? Was this underground lair some sort of communist concentration camp?

            Castiel folds his hands in his lap, looking like he is unsure if he should continue. "It was simply how we lived. We were born knowing there would be those above us, with more power.  I have noticed that up here seemingly everyone exhibits some form of free will. We did not have that."

            Dean sits across from him, listening. Cas's hands shake slightly from where they rest in his lap and Dean feels a tempted to still them. This is clearly a stressful subject to him, but Cas has no reason to feel nervous here, or maybe he'd rather not talk about his home.

            "Would you like some coffee? Beer? Tea?" Dean asks instead of pushing the topic further.  He's not really sure if he has any tea though.

            Castiel tilts his head like a puppy and Dean holds back a smile. "What are those?"

            Dean grins.

            Turns out, Cas really really likes Tea. He should've guessed as much.  It would've saved a lot of time if he'd just went with his instincts. He'll have to get more tea supplies later. The only reason he has any is because of Sam’s occasional visits.

            Cas didn't take to beer very well, but Dean is confident that he'll eventually learn to like it.  Sam had a similar reaction to his first taste of alcohol.

            Cas hated the coffee, but loved the accompanying energy rush it came with. He made the most hilarious faces when he took his first sip, nearly spitting it out the first time till Dean added enough sugar to probably bake a cake.

            Dean ends up drinking most of Castiel's coffee, but at least he found something the guy liked. Castiel clings to his tea as if the drink is comforting. Probably is, Dean can't imagine what the guy must be going through. He can try to sympathize all he wants, but Dean is still not really sure where Cas came from. Not that Cas should start trusting him already, it's only been less than 24 hours since they met. Castiel could have secret violent tendencies that Dean doesn't know about, or even superpowers or a secret extra limb or something and Dean wouldn't know.  Right now he seems like a good dude, but that could change pretty quickly.

            The next thing Dean wants to show Cas is the television, so Dean plops down on his couch in the living room, gesturing for Cas to follow if he wants. Castiel doesn't seem entirely sure whether or not to follow, but he hesitantly comes over eventually. Dean turns on the TV and Castiel jumps, his hands clenching until his knuckles turn white over his mug of tea.

            "Cas? Have you seen a TV before?" He’s assuming Cas has never seen Tv, considering he’s never had toast. It’s another one of the things he'll probably be teaching Cas about.

            "What is a TV?" Cas asks predictably, his voice shaking. His breath is coming out rapidly as he stares wide eyed at the television screen. Dean laughs hoping to comfort Cas, and gestures that he should join him on the couch. It only takes a few moments before he concedes and sits.

            "Why are people trapped in such a contraption?" Castiel asks. "Will I end up in there?"

            "Cas it can't capture you." Dean explains, unsure of how to continue. "It's just... used to tell stories except with videos and images, most stories are fiction but some are true, the news has some truth to it."

            Cas nods and his initial fear slowly fading into fascination. Awe seems like it's going to become a regular expression on Cas's face because if he didn't have TV or coffee or even freaking sunlight, what did he have?

            The couch squeaks as Dean leans forward to grab the remote. "You mind if I change the channel?" He asks, knowing Cas will not know what he means but feeling the need to ask anyway.

            Castiel's brow furrows, "This is your home, do as you please."

            Dean relaxes, feeling regretful that he called off work for the next two weeks. Either he and Cas are going to get along just fine or it's going to be filled with this slightly awkward atmosphere and Castiel's general lack of knowledge about the modern day world. He doesn’t mind teaching him, but it’s concerning that he doesn’t know any of these things.

            Dean's flipping through channels when he sees _Doctor Sexy_ on. He stops for a second, sparing a glance to see Cas's reaction, which hasn't changed much since when he initially turned on the TV.  Dean figures Cas won't really know what he's watching or have the time to tell anyone about it, so he leaves it on. Maybe Cas will even enjoy it.

            Dr. Sexy is tending to one of his patients when Cas finally leans back and starts actually watching the show. Dean can't imagine what it's like for him, to come from a world of no technology and suddenly see people talking on screens, driving cars, and messing with their phones all the time.

            "Hey Cas, what do you think of all this?"

            Cas glances towards him, "All of what?"

            "This." Dean says, gesturing to his TV and the house in general. "You know, all this technology and cars and stuff. You didn't have it before right?"

            Castiel doesn't say anything for a moment, choosing instead to keep his stare on the television. Dean thinks he might have offended him somehow until he says, "I'm not sure what to think. It's....all so different from what I expected."

            Dean pauses, "How so?"

            "Just...everything.  From a very young age I was told how this place would be and it is nothing like that, not even in the slightest." Cas tells him. Dean can understand that, being misled into believing things were a certain way when they weren't. His Dad was good at that.

            "Sorry." Dean remarks lamely. He's never been good at sympathizing.

            Cas smiles, "No, it's quite alright. I think I will enjoy this better than if it were the alternative." Dean doesn't know what the alternative is, but Cas looks unwilling to continue and Dean doesn't want to push.

            Dean returns his attention to Dr. Sexy while feeling for his pen and notebook. Another thing he can write down, how much do they really want anyway?

            Dr. Sexy drags Nurse Clara into one of the storage closets and now Dean is tempted to change the channel. He reaches for it, but Cas stops him by asking, "What are they doing?"

            Dean chokes, how old is Cas again?

            "Is this a mating ritual?" Cas asks again, this time his stare is intensely focused on Dean. "In my home mating rituals were strictly forbidden and only a select pairing were allowed to breed."

            "You've never been with anyone?" Dean asks incredulously. He can't hide it, Cas must be in his early thirties, maybe late twenties, he must've been with someone.

            "No, do most humans receive a partner?"  Castiel asks as if he himself isn't a human.

            Well this is awkward, especially when Doctor Sexy starts removing the nurse's clothes and Castiel is distinctly looking away from the television and there's a slight redness filling his cheeks. Dean fights back a smile.

            "Yeah, most people have a partner, but no one is chosen or anything. People just...if they like someone they ask them out and if they fall in love with them they get married."

            Castiel nods in some form of understanding and Dean discreetly turns off the television because Cas is clearly uncomfortable.

            "I have heard of the bond of marriage, it was considered very sacred." Castiel adds and Dean rolls his eyes.

            "Well, unfortunately it's not considered very sacred around here. People get married and divorced all the time."

            Cas's eyes widen, "Marriage is not an eternal bond?"

            Dean shrugs, "It's supposed to be I guess, but people break that rule all the time"

            Castiel frowns, "Why?"

            "People fall out of love, I guess." Like his brother. "Or sometimes people die too." Like his parents. 

Castiel stares blankly at him, processing the information.

"Death will not separate those who love one another." Cas tells him and Dean can't think of anything else to say.

            They sit like that for a while, for Dean the silence is uncomfortable. He's so used to continuous chatter when he’s hanging with another person, he creates it himself. He doesn't have cheesy conversations about marriage like the one he just had with Cas. Not that he could help it, someone should explain this stuff to Cas if he doesn't know. Who knows what kind of culture Cas lived in before. Hell, Dean wouldn't be surprised if Cas was an ancient monk of some sort.

            Cas seems comfortable with his own thoughts, his expression curiously blank. Dean briefly wonders if that's how Cas used to spend his time or if he's just a really thoughtful guy.

            "Um...So is there anything you want to do today?" Dean asks dumbly. He's not Cas's babysitter, he doesn't need to ask what stupid activity they should do next.

            Castiel looks confused at the question. "Whatever you'd like me to do." Castiel says simply, as if the answer is obvious. Dean cringes at that, was Cas some kind of slave before?

"Is there anything _you_ would like to do?"

Castiel seems lost and Dean sighs. He should write this all down....later. Instead he stands and goes to his desk drawer, where he keeps a deck of cards for when Sam comes over with Bobby for their own version of poker night.

            Dean grins and places the deck of cards on the table, gesturing for Cas to sit with him on the floor in front of it. "Here. I'll teach you how to play cards."


	3. Chapter 3

Cas. It's a familiar name, Annael used to call him Cas, as he called her Anna. Their nicknames were frowned upon then, those many months ago (at least that was what he was told). Things are so different now, so different that he cannot fathom how this world works in comparison to his birthplace. He thinks he might end up liking it better here.

            He tries not to think about home too much, it's unnecessary and painful. Home was never really home, he knows now that it was a lie. But no, he will not think of that for the moment, Dean is trying to teach him something.

            Dean is remarkably kind and gentle with him. Even though he's only known Dean for a short amount of time, he can see how Dean is blanketing his actions with a gentle kindness that Cas himself has used when talking to his younger, more inexperienced siblings. In some ways, he has become those innocent children. He knows little of this world. The very first rule of it he got wrong, Earth has always been above him. Above what they called Heaven. When he had stepped out of that building and saw the sky overhead, he refused to believe. He had looked down and when Dean guided him into his car he still looked anywhere but at the sky. He cannot explain the feeling of discovering one's whole life has been a lie.

            "Cas? You okay?" Dean asks, genuine concern in his voice. He is truly kind, unlike the people from before. He knows Dean is doing this for payment, but so were the others and they treated him with no such kindness. A small part of Castiel sees Dean as human and himself as in-human, even if he knows better now. They are the same.

            "Yes, thank you." Castiel says, smiling at Dean. Dean seems reassured when Castiel speaks, he'd been afraid before to use his voice, thinking it might hurt them. He must remind himself he is human, he will learn eventually.

            "Ever played cards?" Dean questions. Dean seems to like asking things he already knows the answers to.

            "No, but I've seen people play something similar." In the waiting room, as they called it, he watched through the glass. Castiel had paid little attention to the cards and more to his siblings. He'd known he wouldn’t be seeing them for much longer. They paid him little mind in return, but he didn't entirely care. He found Uriel's voice grating anyway. Anna was the only one with whom he was close now.

            “Where?”

            “Back at…where I was before.” Cas explains uncertainly, he never really did get the name.

            “Your home or Fusion?”

            “Fusion.” Unusual name for a place.

            Dean shakes his head, suddenly looking incredibly uncomfortable. Had he said something wrong?

            “How long were you there?” Dean asks, his expression somber.

            Ah, time. One of the most popular questions he received at _Fusion_. How long did he do this, what day did he do that. He has yet to grasp the concept of the limited existence he is now faced with. Another thing he’d rather not dwell on for the moment.

            “I’m not sure, a little while before you took me they had said I’d been there for three months. Measurements of time mean little to me, I understand them, but have never tracked them regularly. I suppose this is something I should learn how to do soon...” Castiel trails off. He’s not sure why he’s saying so much to Dean, he never talks this much.

            Dean appears shocked at whatever Castiel said now. Three months is a long time then, for humans, it hadn’t seemed that long, even if some experiences dragged on and _on._

            “Three months.” Dean states flatly, anger burning in his tone. Castiel places his hands on the floor cautiously, prepared to flee or fight if this anger is directed at him.

            “That is what I was told.”

            Dean inhales deeply, exhales. He’s trying to calm himself. Castiel settles his hands back on the table; Dean has shown he has control over his emotions. He can relax.

            Calmed now, Dean gives him an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s just….three months there and you don’t even know the name of the place? What’d you do all that time?”

            Sit. Watch. Think. Castiel has had far too much time to think lately. In that respect, he wishes he could measure time accurately just to see how much time he’s spent just thinking about it all. His life, the lies. He didn’t even understand the meaning of lying until they stormed his home in their unusual outfits and strange equipment and told them that their lives before that moment were nothing.

            Hesitantly, Dean places a comforting hand on his shoulder. Castiel must’ve been lost in his thoughts again; he’d have backed away otherwise. This is why he’s not allowed to think anymore, he lets his guard down. In however much time he spent down in Heaven, he never let his guard down, but now he does it regularly, when the danger is most prevalent. 

            Surprisingly, Dean’s touch isn’t bad; it’s warm and somehow familiar. It serves its purpose; Cas does feel calmer, less alone. He never had a problem being alone before, probably because he always knew his brothers or sisters were always just a few steps away. That no force in the universe could hurt him besides his own siblings. But now the world is unfamiliar, his kin aren’t waiting for him down the hall. There is no guard duty he must perform. There is no session for prayer.

            He still hasn’t answered Dean’s question, but Dean is kind and insightful so instead of saying anything, he stands and gathers his cards. They never really got to play, he feels bad about that. He’d have liked to learn how to play cards from Dean, but perhaps now is not the time. Though he’s glad for Dean’s understanding and the fact he does not berate Castiel for his inner turmoil like Gabriel would’ve done.

Dean retreats to the other room, saying nothing and giving Castiel his space. Castiel returns to the guest room without speaking, just simply ascends the steps. Dean doesn’t seem to mind that he goes without permission. He’s so used to asking that when he does get to hisnot room that a rush of panic floods into him and it takes a few moments for him to remember that Earth is so different from Heaven. He will not be punished for such an innocent mistake here.

            The sky is dark again, as it had been last night. Time seems to matter more here, it held so little meaning before when the lighting never changed and each day was exactly the same as the last. Tomorrow he will let himself truly see the sky, but for now, he closes the blinds. He can convince himself that it’s just another painting from home that lies behind the windows, at least that’s what he tells himself. He’s been trying to convince himself of a lot of things since he’s arrived here, maybe someone else would be better at convincing him.

            Perhaps that someone would be Dean.

            Dean ascends the steps around 12am, so midnight.  He may not understand the concept of time or cards or TV, but at least he can read a clock now. Castiel guesses Dean was writing some information about him in that notebook. He doesn’t really mind at this point, the people at Fusion seem to know most things about him anyway. Except his name, which they now surely know. Only so many angel’s names begin with the letter C and they have all the other ones.

            Castiel measures how many steps it takes for Dean to reach his room and mentally takes note for when or if there’s reason to wake him. He feels tempted to stand guard, it’s what he did before. He watched, he guarded. It’s engrained in him to watch and protect, not doing so makes him feel helpless.

            Which is why after staring at the clock for hours—he still doesn’t understand why humans would create something that limits their existence even more—he gets up and makes his way down the hallway.

            He tells himself that Dean would have no problem with this. There’s more freedom here, he’s allowed to wake when he pleases.

            Castiel paces, checks the doors, the windows. He doesn’t open the blinds when he passes them, just listens carefully for any sign of intruders. Back home, he’d only ever had to take down one man and it was one of his brothers. Gabriel was always mischievous and unfortunately for him, a better fighter. Castiel didn’t stand a chance when Gabriel decided he wanted a little more food than his rations provided.

            Castiel lets the memory slide away from him, people here aren’t trained at birth to be on constant guard, he will surely outmatch most human opponents.

            After circling the house a few times, he retreats to Dean’s room and listens carefully on the other side of the door. He can hear Dean’s breathing, soft and even in sleep. Castiel sits outside the room, like he had when the children were afraid of the loud clashes coming from the world above or when it was time for the elevator to descend.

            Elevators, a human invention, he reminds himself. Castiel is human.

            He lays his head in his hands, no matter how many times he tells himself that it seems to make no difference. It doesn’t even matter really, nothing has changed. He is the same, he just has a different purpose now.

But what is that purpose? His purpose has always been the same until now; guard, observe, wait for the day where he would ascend to the battlefield and fight in God's name.

            Perhaps nothing has to change. There are certainly things worth guarding here, Dean being one of them. There is a lot to see, even from the confines of Dean's home. Yes, he could simply carry out his old duties here, and follow Dean's lead when it came to learning about the Earthly realm. Maybe one day he will get to see all of Earth, it’s something to look forward to.

            It takes longer than it should for Castiel to recognize the feel of Dean's hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. He'd fallen asleep somehow, standing outside his door. He doesn't remember sitting down, letting his eyes close.

            "You okay, Castiel?" Dean asks carefully. His face is close, close enough that he can see the different shades of green in his eyes. There's a rip on the collar of his t-shirt, and another under the “a” in the word Metallica that runs across his chest. He can catch the sight of skin just beneath. Castiel doesn't know why his eyes glance back to that point repeatedly.  "What're you doing outside my room, man. Did you need something?"

            Dean's face shows no irritation at finding Castiel outside his room, there's only concern in the man's gaze. Back home there would surely be punishment for falling asleep on the job.

            "I apologize. I..." Castiel stops himself. How much does Dean know about his old life anyway? Did he know Castiel's job? His desires? The people at Fusion knew way more than he was comfortable with, but what about Dean?

            It's only been a short while that Castiel has known the man, but he thinks he might like him already. He's kind and seems to genuinely care about not only Castiel, but his siblings who are still probably stuck at Fusion. Castiel had seen the uncomfortable look in Dean's eyes when he signed that document handing Castiel over to Dean. He clearly doesn't approve of whatever it is they're doing.

            "Do you know what I did before this, Dean?" He says instead. Maybe Dean already knows, maybe he doesn't. Either way, Castiel will explain it to him. He actually likes talking to Dean.

            "No, actually I really don't know anything about you other than what you tell me, Cas." Dean says and Castiel is pleasantly surprised. "Uh, I'm not really good at this Cas. I don't know what kind of shit you've gone through, but do you want to talk about it or something?" Dean strained laugh confuses him, but Cas takes this as the perfect opportunity to explain.

            "I think it would be beneficial to the both of us if I explained some things about myself, and if you don't mind, I would like to know more about your world as well."

            Dean grins and offers his hand to help Cas up. It's the second time he's offered his hand for Cas to take, he wasn't sure what to do before, but he understands the gesture now and takes his hand with little hesitation.

            They head downstairs and Castiel eyes the window he sat beside yesterday morning.

            "Would you like to have this conversation outside?" Castiel asks impulsively. He has no idea what his own reaction will be to truly see the sky, without forcing himself to look away. He's refused to truly look at it yet, accept that the Heavens are above him. His denial, along with all the legends back home about the sky kept him from looking before.

            "Sure." Dean replies and he offers Castiel a coat which he politely declines.

            Dean opens the front door and steps outside easily. Castiel watches as Dean's steps barefoot onto the patio, seemingly unaffected by the temperature outside. Castiel imagines it's cold, it still looks to be early morning.

            Dean looks like he's about to ask if he's okay again, but Castiel straightens, pushing away his hesitance and joining Dean on the patio.

            "I'm fine." He tells Dean, which brings out a small chuckle from Dean.

            Castiel still doesn't look up, choosing to stare at the ground as Dean leads him over to his car.

            "Here, sit. Be careful with her though." Dean smiles as he sits on the front of his car. He pushes himself so his back leans against the windshield. Relaxed.

            Still focusing on the ground, Castiel joins him, but chooses to sit on the edge of the car. Dean told him to be careful.

            "Is there a reason you don't want to look up?" Dean asks, trying to keep his tone light, but Castiel can hear the curiosity behind it.

            The sky, it's supposedly a good way to start the short story of his life. "Yes." He says, wringing his hands together. He feels nauseous though he's not sure why. Everything is fine really, more than fine. Dean is patient, waiting for him to continue. "My home...We thought...We were all taught that we lived in the sky, above it really. They said if we were to ever see the sky, it means we had fallen."

            Castiel glances up and there it is. He doesn’t feel fallen when he looks, just wonders why he isn’t up there instead of down here. He thought it'd be different looking at it without a window in front of him. It is to some degree, but not the way he thought it would. It just makes his situation more final. There's no going back to Heaven now.

            On a side note, it is very beautiful, more beautiful than he imagined it. The paintings and pictures they held in their archive didn't do it justice.

            "Um. Okay. So you thought you lived above the sky?" Dean questions, watching Castiel carefully.

            "Yes. We thought we were angels of Heaven, Dean. That is why I signed my name in Enochian as you pointed out. I was taught at a very young age to always write in Enochian if I could." Castiel explains and saying “angel” out loud makes his chest twist painfully. So many lies.

            Dean doesn't seem to know what to make of that information. There's a pressing question on his mind, Castiel can tell, but instead he asks, "Are you fluent in Enochian?"

            Castiel smirks, "Speaking it? No. We were told that our true voices weren't developed enough to speak it correctly. They told us that when we came of age that our true voices would awaken and that one word of it could decimate an army of demons." Castiel liked that particular story and he tells it to Dean with a smile. It was always one thing he looked forward to as a child, for the day his voice would ring out loud and powerful.

"Wow, that sounds pretty badass." Dean replies with a smirk on his face. One day, Castiel might tell Dean the whole story, about the great battles and wars against evil that they were destined to fight in.

Dean's voice grows solemn. "Where was your home really Cas? How'd you end up at Fusion?"

            Castiel blinks as the sunrise breaks over the horizon. Beautiful. The researchers at Fusion had been worried he'd have all sorts of chemical deficiencies because he'd never seen the sun. He remembers hearing that conversation with a hint of confusion, but he understands now. The sun is very bright and compared to it, he’s always lived in darkness.

            "I lived underground." Castiel growls. "Six miles below the surface apparently. There was an elevator that took us part of the way down, we called it something different. We were all in prayer when a group of Fusion members rode down on it with weapons we'd never seen before, and told us it was time to show us the real world." Castiel's hands clench into fists. There were a few of his siblings who refused to ride the elevator back up, claiming God would strike them down for ascending before their time. Castiel's not sure what happened to them, but the sounds their weapons made were the loudest things he's ever heard.

"They blindfolded us all, put us in the back of one of your cars and then we were at Fusion, being told everything we were taught was a lie." That's enough of the story for today, Castiel thinks. Dean hasn't moved from his position against the windshield during Castiel's brief summation of the past few months. He's incredibly still, staring at Castiel with sympathy.

            "I'm sorry Cas." He says mournfully and Castiel is surprised at the genuine sympathy in his voice. That a stranger cares this much about his well-being.

            "It's in the past now. I can only move forward."

            Dean nods in assent, before a shine of curiosity makes itself known in Dean’s eyes. "If you don’t mind me asking, why were you outside my door this morning?"

Castiel chuckles. He had nearly forgotten how he’d gotten to this point, "I apologize, I left out that part. Back home, I was a guard of sorts. I watched and protected my siblings. Without that responsibility I’m afraid I become a little agitated."

            "So you were guarding my room?"

            "So to speak. Just watching over your home for any signs of danger."

            Dean thankfully still doesn't seem offended, he just grins and places his hand on Cas's shoulder as they stand.

            "Is there anything you wish to speak about Dean?" Dean had given him a listening ear, it seemed that Castiel should offer the same thing in return. Castiel fidgets nervously as Dean takes a step back.     

"Not really Cas, I'm good." He looks thoughtful for a moment before gesturing to his car. "If you're gonna protect anyone, it should be Baby here. She's a 67 Chevy Impala, most important thing I own...It was my Dad's"

            It’s a beautiful machine, if a machine can be considered beautiful. He's not entirely familiar with technology and how it's sentimental value, but Castiel can understand Dean's care for his father, and in turn for his car.

            "I'll be sure to watch over it as well."

            Dean grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. They watch the sunrise in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Dean's patting him on the back and heading inside. Castiel asks if he can stay out for a little longer.

            "Of course, Cas. Stay out as long as you'd like." Dean replies easily. There's a light about the man that makes Castiel feel warm in a way that no one else has ever done. If Castiel _were_ an angel, he imagines that Dean's soul would be blindingly bright. Like staring at the sun.

            Castiel stares at the sun now, which is slowly rising higher over the horizon. It’s bright enough that it burns his eyes. Still, looking at it now, he thinks Dean's soul would probably be brighter.

xxx

 

Castiel comes in at noon and gives him a shy smile as he steps in the doorway. He’s still wearing Dean’s old clothes, which seem to fit him comfortably, and he looks far more peaceful than he did earlier. The staring and talking thing seems to have helped his mood. He doesn't know how the guy can stand outside and just stare for hours, but that seems to be Cas's thing. He likes to watch and observe.

            He worried briefly that Castiel would go run or wander off somewhere and get hurt, a remnant feeling of raising a rebellious Sam Winchester before he reminded himself that Cas can do whatever the hell he wants. He should too, sounds like the guy lacked some serious freedom privileges at his old home.

            Dean made him lunch earlier, and he has to keep reminding himself that he's to watch Castiel, not be his caretaker. The guy's an adult; he can make his own damn food if he wants to. Still, he kind of wants to serve Cas food and maybe watch over him, he's had a rough go, maybe he needs looked after for the time being.

            Dean sets Cas's plate down in front of him. He just made the guy a simple sandwich, being careful not to overdo it. Cas seems like the type who wouldn’t take kindly to being treated like a child, even with all his grateful behavior he can see how Dean’s gestures make him uneasy.

            "For me?"

            "Yeah." Dean says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He's not Paula Deen or some shit, he's not gonna make a four course meal.

            Dean turns before he can see that grateful look of awe Castiel gets every time Dean does something for him. He's satisfied just hearing Cas say a sincere, "Thank you."

            Dean smiles to himself and heads up stairs, his eyes fall onto the fusion notebook sitting on his nightstand and he feels a rush of disgust after hearing Cas’s history.

            Since this morning, Dean has contemplated Castiel’s words carefully. In some ways, it is ironic that Castiel is in Dean’s care, considering the similarities. Or maybe that’s just Dean, but he can see a lot of himself in Castiel’s story. Their situations aren’t that similar, but the emotion behind them is the same.

            Dean grew up thinking one day, they would all stop the Apocalypse together, as a family. Dean especially. John always told him he was the righteous man, destined to end the Apocalypse. It was only until he was seventeen that he realized just how crazy his dad was. For John Winchester, the world was always ending. The worst part was that Dean could see that his world was already over, buried with his mother.

            In that sense, Dean failed to stop the apocalypse. He couldn’t bring his mother back and he couldn’t save his dad.

            He ran away at nineteen with Sammy. It’s what led to his Father’s suicide, but Dean can’t bring himself to regret it, they needed out of there, Sammy needed someone who wasn’t drunk off their ass 90% of the time.

            He didn’t want to leave, but hearing Sammy beg for them to go, hearing his father screaming at them from the other room. Dean couldn’t do it anymore, it wasn’t safe there for either of them. So they split, and Dad was admitted into a psychiatric ward in Illinois a year later. Suicide there after three. Dean tries not to think about it.

            Dean sighs, runs a tired hand over his face. He’s not sure what Castiel is doing downstairs, perhaps just sitting and watching like he does. Guarding. The notion that Castiel was a guardian angel makes Dean smile.

            So their situations are completely different, but Dean understands. He really does. Going from having some great destiny to being just like everyone else can be difficult to accept. Sure, Dean hasn’t been sheltered in some secret super religious society since birth – and Castiel’s going to have some serious issues there—but their feelings, at least how Cas described them are the same. Lost, without purpose. It’s a confusing feeling, Dean remembers well.

            Dean was lucky to have Sam, Sam turned out to be his purpose. Raising him became his first priority and Dean without that responsibility, as well as Sam’s companionship, he wouldn’t have made it. It was tough, and there were days Dean had begged for the responsibility to be lifted from him, but it was worth it. He needed it, Sam needed it. He imagines their parents would be happy to see Sam as a lawyer now. Or almost lawyer. Dean is sure proud.

            That’s Dean’s biggest problem though, if Dad’s world was Mary, then Dean’s world is Sam.

            Dean’s not sure what matters most to Cas, but he does know Cas is now without his siblings or a purpose. Dean’s going to help him find one if it kills him.

            At least he seems comfortable for the time being. Dean’s glad about that, he seems like a good guy who deserves more than the pile of shit he’s got. One thing’s for sure, before their time runs out, Dean’s going to do some serious research about Fusion. He’s not gonna send Cas back there if all they’re going to do is keep him locked away and just….experiment on him.

            He’s gonna get a lawyer—Sammy—involved. Hell, he’ll call Sam later. Whatever’s going on, psychological experiment or not, it can’t be legal.

            It’s after he’s showered and dressed for the day that he picks up the phone. He doesn’t tell Sam about Castiel, not really. He’ll be able to explain better in person. And he’ll probably leave out the part about all the money, or at least what it’s for. Because really, Sam doesn’t need to know about it and knowing will only make him feel guilty anyway. He knows his brother, he doesn’t like people doing favors for him and he doesn’t like Dean taking care of him so much.

            “What’d you get yourself into Dean?” Sam asks teasingly when Dean says he needs legal advice. The phone is wedged between his shoulder and ear. Cas is in the other room, watching the television intently.

            “Nothing! I swear, just some problems with a friend is all. I’ll explain more whenever I see you.” A friend, yeah Castiel’s a friend. A new friend, acquaintance.  He’s not lying, not _technically_.

            Sam laughs though Dean can hear the slight nervousness in his brother’s voice. Dean’s only ever asked for “Legal help” once and it wasn’t pretty.

            “How about tonight?” Dean’s stomach drops. God, he wishes he could put this off longer.

            “Yeah, tonight is fine.” Dammit, what is he going to tell Sam? He’ll probably end up spilling about the money thing.

            “Right, I’ll see you whenever I get off work. It might be pretty late.”

            “You know Sam we can talk about this tomorrow or in a few days if you’d like. It’s not that urgent.” Well it kind of is. Depends on when the freaky angel police show up to collect Cas.

            Dean can hear Sam typing furiously in the background. That boy is always busy. “Nah, Dean I’ll be there tonight. Besides I might be heading to Mississippi tomorrow, depending on my case.”

            “The one with the blue haired chick?”

            Sam chuckles, “Yeah that one. You really should be able to remember her name by now Dean.”

            Dean stops by the courthouse regularly, he’s pretty sure the blue-haired chick has told him her name at least thirty times but he just can’t remember. What he does remember are the not-so-subtle invitations into her pants which he politely declined.

            “Technically Mr. Lawyer, I’m not supposed to know anything about her. Isn’t there some rule you have to keep your cases top secret?”

            “There is a certain requirement to keep some things confidential, but considering how friendly she was with you I doubt her name would be off limits.”

            “Dean?”

            Dean startles, nearly dropping the phone at the sound of Cas's voice.  He's so used to living alone.

            He can hear distantly Sam questioning him about something over the phone, but Cas is now in his personal space, examining him closely. Normally, Dean would lean back, step away. But something about Cas keeps him still.

            "I apologize, were you talking to me? I was distracted by your....TV" Cas says hesitantly, and Dean inhales slowly as Cas stares unblinking into his eyes. "What's that?"

            Dean glances to the phone in his hand. Right. Cas probably doesn't know about phones.

            "Oh sorry Cas. I was just talking to my brother actually, over the phone. This thing." Dean explains and Cas looks fascinated for a moment, before his face starts to heat in embarrassment.

            "Oh sorry, I apologize I didn't mean to interrupt." Cas stutters as he backs away uneasily.

            "It's cool man."

            Dean places the phone back to his ear just in time to hear Sam yell, "Is someone there with you!?"

            "No." Dean exclaims before he remembers Sam is coming over tonight. "Yes."

            "Is this the friend you were talking about? Or is this a more-than-friend?" Jeez are they in fifth grade?

            Dean rolls his eyes, "The friend I was talking about. He's in some rough shit, Sam. Better come prepared."

            He can practically see Sam grinning. He loves a challenge when it comes to law. "I always am."

            Dean hangs up, smiling to himself. It’s been awhile since Sam has come over. Dean’s usually distracted with work, as is Sam, but when stops to think about it he really misses his brother. Hearing his voice reminds him how rarely they actually get to talk.

            Dean spares a glance to his current company, sitting nervously on the couch in his living room. Cas has only been here for a day and a half and he’s already opened up far more than Dean expected. He should write some of it down in the book that’s sitting on his nightstand, but now that he knows a bit more, he’s hesitant. Whatever experiment this is, whatever it is he’s recording, it can’t be used for a good cause. He’s barely thinking about the money now, he’s worried about Cas. Sure, he still hopes he gets paid, but that was before he know this thing might be hurting people.

            Dean tries to imagine a scenario where this information he’s gathering leads to a good outcome, but he can only come up with one, improbably theory. Maybe they’re trying to help these people adjust to the real world? But what from Cas said, that’s a very small chance. Adjusting to the real world means they’d be educated, not poked and observed or some shit.

            Dean glances over again, Cas still looks nervous and slightly embarrassed.

            Dean chuckles to himself, hopefully Sam will be able to help him—them— out.

…

It’s not Castiel’s fault that he knows so little about this strange, advanced world. There’s no need to worry over such simple mistakes, mistakes that are to be expected given his position. Still, Castiel cannot fight back the feelings of embarrassment and fear clouding his mind.

He _knows_ there will be no consequences. Not here. Dean seems unperturbed, laughing to himself as he approaches Castiel. No reason for the panic writhing in his chest, he should know better by now.

Back home when he made a mistake, intellectual or otherwise, there were always consequences. It was always something simple, expected, a slap to the face, a beating from his siblings. Castiel never did anything severe enough that would go above those kinds of punishments. Castiel didn’t fear them; he didn’t even fear the most severe of punishments his people delivered. He knew what to expect, he knew the consequences for every action he took. Going against God’s commandments and his brothers’ rules were the only laws he worried about.

Here, it’s the unknown that scares him. He knows they have some form of punishment; it’s just a matter of what it is and how Castiel avoid it.

He remembers when Uriel attacked one of the researchers so long ago, it must’ve been the first week at Fusion. He was taken away, not seen for what seemed like an eternity at the time, and when Uriel finally returned he was not the same. That swagger he always carried was lost. Whatever punishment he received, it broke him.

So far, this world has been kind to him as far as making stupid mistakes goes. Castiel is careful enough that it was an easy enough thing to avoid at Fusion. Here, for some reason, he’s already far too comfortable. Maybe it was the month of discomfort and confusion that’s let him settle so quickly into Dean’s home. Comfortable to the point where he cannot picture Dean punishing him, Castiel isn’t sure he’d let him if he tried, who is his leader here? Right now it’s Dean, but all Castiel would have to do is walk out the door to change that. He doesn’t really want to change that, at least for the time being. Dean seems trustworthy and is the only ally he has at the moment.

Castiel glances up when he sees Dean approaching. He comes and sits beside Castiel on the couch and Castiel distracts himself by staring at the material of the couch instead of Dean. It’s blue and worn, tattered, much like Michael’s couch had been back home. The archangels were the only ones with real furniture.

Castiel shifts his gaze to his lap—still trying to ignore Dean’s questioning stare—and sees that his hands are shaking. He scowls and attempts to still them.  He can feel Dean notice it too.

“You okay, Cas?”

Castiel nods stiffly, breathing deeply as he does so. Dean isn’t angry, he’s not going to end up like Uriel, he reminds himself. His hands slow, but still visibly quiver. He was never this weak back home, why is he so skittish now?

“You know I’m not gonna hurt you right?” Dean asks, his voice brimming with concern.

“No.” Castiel admits, holding back a glare. “Apparently not.”

Castiel finally looks at Dean, his expression is a mix of concern and confusion.  Castiel feels tempted to glare at Dean, or just do _something_ that would prove he is not normally this spineless. Castiel is a soldier, a warrior, not this fearful, shivering creature he has become.

“Why would I hurt you, you haven’t even done anything.”   
            “I interrupted you while you were speaking with your brother; doing such a thing back home would result in punishment. Even speaking this candidly with you now would be considered an offense, especially if I was speaking with an angel outside my rank.” He explains, angel hierarchy was a strict regime, one that didn’t offer much free thinking. After they come of age to practice worship almost all forms of free speech are gone. All words spoken after that would be in worship to God in some form.

Interrupting a Principality would likely land him no punishment, especially considering that he was closer to the siblings of his own ranking, but interrupting one of the archangels would’ve left him with permanent damage.

“Is there any specific rules I should follow? That would help me very much.” Castiel questions, knowing would make everything just so much easier.

“You would’ve received punishment?” Dean states incredulously. “You know what, never mind. Sounds like you lived in one fucked up caste system Cas. You don’t need to worry about being punished or whatever here.” Dean says sternly, before a small grin appears on his face. “God, that sounds sexual.” Dean chuckles, running a hand over his face as if to clear the distress from it.  Castiel dislikes the worry he sees there. “I’m not going to beat you, even if you do something stupid I’ll probably just yell at you to knock it off.” Dean glances down again, to Castiel’s still shaking hands and Castiel can’t hide his surprise when Dean places a calming hand over his to still them.

“There’s not really any rules here, Cas. Maybe one or two, but they’re obvious things. Don’t kill me, don’t steal my shit, and don’t scratch up Baby.” Dean smiles, the distress fading with Castiel’s soothed nerves. “Other than that, do what you want Cas. I haven’t had anyone actually staying here in a while so I let you know if I need to add to those rules.”

Cas returns Dean’s kind smile and finds himself staring at where Dean’s hand still lies over both of his. He can’t fathom why he enjoys seeing and feeling Dean’s warm touch. Perhaps he’s been without kind physical contact for too long. Last time was when he had just received his assignments, Anna had hugged him when he received the job of guardian, it was a very sought after position in the garrison.

He misses Annael.

            “Also,” Dean adds, removing his hand from Castiel’s. “My brother is coming over later. You’ll like him, he’s a good guy.”  Castiel can plainly hear the spark of pride in Dean’s voice, it’s obvious he thinks very highly of his brother.

            Dean leans back, settling more comfortably into the couch. “Sam’s gonna try to help you out actually, learn more about Fusion and stuff. There’s gonna be a lot of legal bullshit we’ll have to look through. Plus I signed some stuff while I was there, that’ll probably cause problems if we have to take action. God, I wish I knew what I was getting myself into earlier, if I knew they were making people into labrats I wouldn’t have signed up, I’d have called the fucking cops. The place and the credentials just looked legit so I went with it, I should’ve looked harder before.”

            There’s some sort of foreign emotion rising in Castiel’s chest. It’s a warm mixture of appreciation and fondness for this man he barely knows. Dean continues to blindly help him and Castiel just doesn’t get it. From the beginning of his creation he’s been told many things about humans. Mostly that they were selfish and greedy, but were God’s most beloved creations and that above all, they were to protect them. What Dean’s been doing—helping him, putting up with his cluelessness—is something that even his brothers wouldn’t have done for him.  It’s hard to believe that Dean would do something like that for him when he has nothing to offer in return.

            “You don’t have to do that.” Castiel says finally, unsure of how to convey just how grateful he is for Dean’s help.

            Dean waves him off, “Trust me, he’ll want to. Sam’s like that, always helping people.” Castiel grins hearing the same pride for his brother bloom in Dean’s words once again.  It’s nice to know he has that close a connection with his brother. Castiel’s never really had someone in his corner, except maybe Anna. He can’t imagine having only one sibling as Dean has. He’s only ever had hundreds, most of which he’s never met. He imagines some of them don’t even exist, he’s only ever interacted with his own garrison.

            “Thank you, you do not have to help me yet you do anyway, I appreciate it.”

            Dean grins shyly, glancing away from Castiel’s piercing stare, “No problem.”

            Dean is silent for a moment before he seems to remember himself and asks casually, “You wanna know how to play cards now?”

            Castiel smiles, “I’d love to.”

            They move to the kitchen table and Dean shuffles the deck. Castiel watches, fascinated by the lightning speed in which the cards move in Dean’s hands. He deals them out and explains they’re going to play the basic game of _Go Fish_ for now.

            “I thought we were playing cards?”

            Dean chuckles and Castiel feels momentarily idiotic. “Cards is a general term, Cas. There’s a bunch of games you can play with them.”

            Dean explains the objective of the game _Go Fish_ and Castiel thinks he gets it. Fifty-two cards, find their matches. Sounds easy enough.

            Ten minutes later Dean is yelling “son of a bitch!” loudly after Castiel has dominated yet another game. Dean seems more amused than outraged, but says they should play a different card game now.

            They play _Egyptian Rat-screw_ next, which Dean explains is a really stupid card game and that he should be teaching him something actually useful.  They slap down cards and lightning speed and Castiel smiles to himself, not understanding why this card game is stupid. This is enjoyable, a test of reflex and focus.

            Castiel ends up taking the whole deck, winning again.

            “You have fast reflexes man.”

            “I was trained to.” Castiel explains, returning the deck to Dean. He likes cards.

            Dean gives him a strange look before his lips quirk up in amusement, “I’ll bet. We need to teach you poker sometime though, much better card game.”

            That warm fondness floods through his system again and Castiel nods, eyes trained on Dean. It’s been years since he’s legitimately enjoyed himself. For so long Castiel has either been trapped in his own mind or at his station, making sure no one is a step out of line. This kind of levity is so unfamiliar, he’s not sure it ever existed before now, it’s a nice feeling. The first of many nice feelings he’s experienced as a “human,” since that’s what he is now. What he’s always been, but was too stupid to figure it out, like everyone else in his family.

            Dean shuffles the deck, “Redo, beginners luck. This isn’t even a real card game anyway.”

            “What classifies as a real card game?” Castiel asks but Dean just shakes his head and they play _Egyptian Rat-screw_ again.

            They slap their cards on the table and this time, when they both smack down two seven of hearts, Castiel lets him take the pile.

               Dean notices, “You gave that one to me.”

            Castiel grins, but says nothing as they continue to slap down their cards. There wasn’t any games like this back home, not really. The last time Cas remembers playing was when he sparred with his brother Balthazar and that was long before Fusion came into the picture. Not that sparring or general roughhousing was uncommon, but he never got into that sort of thing very often. His siblings all had preferred playmates anyway and Castiel kept to himself much of the time. Usually their games brought him trouble, like when Ion thought it’d be funny to steal ink for himself and brothers from the storage closet Castiel was supposed to be defending at the time. He missed them of course, since Barachiel thought it would be funny to create a diversion.

            Michael nearly killed him for that mistake. If he only knew at the time how little it mattered.

            Castiel misses another draw and Dean seems to notice his distraction. He looks as if he’s about to ask about it when a knocking from the front door halts his words.

            “That must be Sam.” Dean announces, moving to the foyer.

            Sam. Castiel suppresses the urge to retreat. Sam clearly means a lot to Dean, if Sam thinks ill of Castiel….No, he’s stopping himself there. There’s no need to fear Sam, or Dean, they’re here to help him.

            He sighs, letting his frustration replace his fear. The concept of mortality has made him weak and cowardly. The old Castiel would’ve stood tall and declined all the luxuries and assistance Dean has offered, he would’ve fixed everything himself.

            Castiel straightens and removes all physical signs of vulnerability. Angel or not, he is still a force to be reckoned with.

            “Hey Dean!” A voice that must belong to Sam echoes from down the hallway. Castiel follows the path Dean took into the foyer quietly, still unsure what to expect from Sam.

            Castiel finds them in a heartfelt embrace that makes Castiel’s defensive walls nearly fall apart. Dean clings to him, like their shared history is written in the way he grips his brother’s shoulders. Sam is grinning widely, his long hair sticking up as he pulls away from Dean. Sam is tall, wearing a ruffled suit and standing tall nearly a foot over Dean, but he doesn’t feel threatened. Castiel can tell Sam is kind and friendly from just looking at him. It’s a palpable feeling, like he’s giving off waves of it.

            Sam’s grin changes slightly when he spots Castiel over Dean’s shoulder, changing from joy to polite curiosity.

            “This your friend?” He asks Dean quietly before approaching him and offering his hand. Sam acts as perplexed as Dean had been when he automatically takes it in both of his.

            “Hello Sam.”

            “Yeah, that’s Cas.” Dean explains with a smile, slapping his brother playfully on the back. “Castiel.” He finishes quickly and Sam visibly tenses at his full name. Castiel is tempted to ask why his full name is of significance, but keeps his mouth shut. It’s clearly a sensitive subject, one neither brother look willing to discuss.

            Sam mouths something to Dean, to which he shakes his head. Sam’s friendly expression returns and he elbows Dean playfully, clearing whatever tension had momentarily filled the air. It’s a touching exchange, one that was so rarely seen among his siblings. Few of them were ever that close. Perhaps Gabriel and Balthazar shared such a bond; Castiel always thought they were inseparable. He hopes they managed to stick together on Earth.

            Castiel snaps out of his thoughts as Dean signals for them to move back into the kitchen. Sam seats himself comfortably at Dean’s countertop as Dean grabs a few bottles from the fridge.

            “You want a beer Cas?” Dean asks. He seems hesitant, maybe even a little awkward, as he offers him the bottle.

            “I don’t know.” He answers honestly, taking the bottle curiously. He didn’t enjoy the sip Dean offered him the other day, but he had said it was an acquired taste of sorts. Plus, he is still not used to drinking much else outside of water. There was always so little variety.

            Dean pops open the bottle for each of them and Castiel can feel Sam’s eyes boring into him longer before he bothers to check. Sam is staring with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Castiel tries to ignore the look and sips his beer. He makes a face at the bitter taste and sets the bottle away from him immediately. Sam and Dean chuckle as Castiel fights his irritation.

            The countertop shakes as Sam leans his elbows on its surface. He pulls out a pen and a notepad, sets it attentively in front of him. He’s preparing himself.

            “So, what’s your issue Cas?”

            Castiel feels briefly tempted to correct his name, except Dean beats him to it.

            “You should probably call him _Castiel_ , Sam.”

            Castiel grins gratefully at Dean, but seeing as Sam looks a little taken aback, he thinks he may not mind Sam calling him Dean’s nickname.

            “You may call me whatever you wish.”

            Sam grins, “Sorry. So, how can I help you, Castiel?”

            What does he need help with really? There’s nothing he can do about Fusion, his family is gone. He turns to Dean who is already looking as if he’s about to speak.

            “Well….Castiel. Actually, maybe I should start at the beginning?” Dean says, anxiety filling his voice.

            It takes three bottles of beer for Dean to complete his story. He’s halfway into his third one when he gets to explaining how he brought Cas into his home. Castiel had little knowledge of how he came to be in Dean’s care before the story, he thinks he knows more now, but is still confused as to the why Fusion would even bother. If they wanted to dispose of him they could’ve just killed him, no one would know. They would’ve saved much more money from the sounds of it anyway.

            Unless there’s some ulterior motive, but what could that possibly be? It is of no benefit to anyone for Castiel to be here, at Dean’s home, tasting alcohol and pretending that nothing has changed in his life other than the setting. In some ways not all that much has changed, Castiel is still as out of control of his life as he has always been.

            Dean is still talking to Sam, his story reaching its close as Dean recites briefly Castiel’s reaction to all of this. He lets Dean tell Sam, it is no secret that Castiel knows little of how this world truly works. He’s blind here, he’s only seen the sun and sky a few times in his lifetime. He is completely dumbfounded by the technology, the food, the apparent freedom he sees in the lives of the humans who live here.

            It’s then that he knows how Sam can help him, what exactly it is that he wants.

            “I want help in obtaining my freedom.” Castiel tells them, interrupting whatever it was they were talking about. For once he doesn’t feel ashamed for interrupting, he simply had to speak before it was forgotten.

            His answer seems to please Sam, like that was just the thing he wanted to hear.

            Sam grins widely, “I think I can help you with that, Castiel. You already have your freedom though, just by living here in this country, nothing is stopping you from doing whatever you want right now.”

It doesn’t seem like it at the moment, but Castiel sits back into his seat and listens to Dean’s brother. “I’ll try to get you a little bit of justice too, if I can.”

            “I think you mean vengeance.” Dean adds, a teasingly menace smile on his lips. His face has gone lax in what must be the effects of the alcohol. For such a profound statement, Dean seems far comfortable. He contemplates the man’s words, does he seek vengeance? He cannot tell, can only feel the danger encroaching on the walls he’s built around his mind.

            Castiel is surprised when the distant tension and anger that he hasn’t let himself feel breaks the surface, making his fists clench and his shoulders tense. He takes a calming breath, which doesn’t help as much as he hoped.

            Vengeance. That was the trigger word it seemed. Cas has avoided all violent emotions like a virus, he fears the infection as if it’s deadly. The very fact that he has emotions, has had them since his creation, should’ve been a sign that he was human. He should’ve known. They all should’ve told them.

            “It is not vengeance I want.” Castiel confesses, meeting Dean’s cautious eyes which are currently glancing rapidly from his clenched fists to his face. “I want free of my brother’s influence. I want…what Sam said. Justice. Understanding. More so I want my brothers to face justice. If only I had known what my brothers were thinking, what Michael was thinking. I want the truth. Why would they lie to us as they did?”

            “But what about what Fusion did to you man?” Dean interjects. “You gotta want to kick someone’s ass over there.”

            “The tests and whatever else they did to me pales in comparison to the lies my brothers and leaders have told me my whole life. If there was anyone who deserves to be kicked, it would be Michael and Crowley. Fusion is simply a part of their scheming, an unpleasant bump in my path, I will barely remember the place.”

            Sam nods and jots something down on his notepad. “You are outside your families influence, it is up to you to let them go, Castiel.” Sam says and Castiel sighs, nodding. “Do you mean the archangel Michael?”

            “Yes, he was supposedly sent by God to watch over us before we transitioned into our real Heaven. That was clearly a lie.”

            “He was your leader.” Sam states. 

            “My leader, my brother, my teacher. He taught me nearly all of what I know.”

            Across the counter, Dean turns his attention away from Castiel instead to focus on the counter.

            “Where was your old home? Did you call it Heaven?” Sam asks and his tone has somehow taken on a formal yet curious tone.  All business, but Sam is showing interest in Castiel’s story.

            “I do not know. The fact that it was underground is all I know. What connected us to your Earth was a long elevator shaft.” Cas explains and Sam’s eyebrows raise in interest.

            “An elevator shaft?”

            “Yes. We were never permitted to go use it, anyone who ever did, never came back. Crowley always used to say that when our time was right we would board the platform and rise to our true forms. He called it ascension.”

            Ascension., the most holy rite of passage in his society. He’s only ever seen three of his brothers go, he wonders where they are now, or if they’re even still alive.

            “This is getting stranger and stranger.” Dean shakes his head, stumbling slightly as he does so. It makes Sam chuckle.

            “You’ve had too much to drink Dean.”

            “Shut up, Sam. I’ve barely had anything, I’ve only had four beers man. You know I’m tougher than that.” Dean grumbles, he sounds coherent to Castiel.

            Sam grins, “Fine, whatever Dean. So, what I have down is that Cas is a part of some angelic physiological experiment, Dean is an idiot and signs shit before reading the fine print, and there’s this research company involved somehow.” There is much more on Sam’s notepad, but Castiel doesn’t comment on it. He sees a few stray notes beside Fusion and his name, along with a mention of his brothers and his home.

            Dean nods, looking hesitant as he steps forward to stand by Castiel. “Yeah something like that.”

            “Angels though? Pretty big coincidence there Dean.” Sam looks meaningfully at Dean and Cas can feel the immediate tension in Dean from Sam’s words.

            “Shut up.”

            This is clearly a personal thing Castiel does not understand. Dean has some resentment to the topic of angels, but he also appears to have more knowledge on the subject than he is revealing. The very fact he knows one letter in Enochian is enough to show that he knows more than most around here.

            Cas doesn’t want to feel out of the loop, he wants involved. He wants to know everything about Dean, if he’ll let him. This, for now, is his temporary home and he doesn’t want to live in it knowing there is a secret Dean is keeping from him. Not after his own family had kept such things from him.

            Instead of asking the question he truly wants to ask, he says, “Why can you read Enochian Dean?”

            This question is of equal importance, and is much easier than directly asking him why angels and religion is such a taboo subject. Surely, after Dean’s promises, he can be this forthright without worrying about punishment.

            Dean’s eyes drop as if in pain, he’s hit a sore nerve and Castiel dampens his curiosity, “I’m sorry. I’ve touched an old wound.”

            Dean’s quiet for a moment, his expression gone blank, confirming his suspicion but Castiel hopes Dean will tell him anyway despite the pain it causes him.

            Dean nods, avoiding his eyes. He feels Sam’s gaze on him, who simply leans back and whispers, “He’ll come around. Give him a minute.”

            It takes less than that, Dean meets his gaze with a bitter look. “My Dad taught it to me, basterd was obsessed with all that shit.”

            Castiel’s chest clenches painfully at the tone in Dean’s voice.

            “I’m sorry, I-“

            “It’s cool Cas.” Dean says, the bitterness fading. “My Dad is just a touchy subject.”

            “Yeah, Dad just wanted Dean to-“

            Dean silences him with a raised hand, “Enough Sam. We’ve trampled on his grave enough.”

            Sam huffs, but doesn’t speak. Castiel can hear the resentment in the sound; it’s even more prominent than Dean’s.

            There is a heavy silence in the room, Dean finishing his fourth beer and Sam staring at his notepad. Castiel doesn’t know what to make of it, there were few situations that warranted such tension back home.

            Sam is the one who breaks it by gathering up his pen and notepad. “Alright, I’ll see what I can learn about Fusion, maybe find out what they’re goal is.”

            “Thank you, Sam.” Castiel says, appreciative. “I’m sorry I have nothing to offer you in payment for your help.”

            Sam grins and offers his hand as he did earlier. “No problem Castiel. I’ll try to keep an eye out for your brothers in my research, anyone with an angel name right?”

            Cas shakes his hand more confidentially this time. “Yes. Please keep an eye out for angels, thank you.” 


	4. Chapter 4

                Dean’s knows he’s dreaming as he sits down on the worn barstool. A beer is immediately placed in front of him, as expected. He sips it silently and watches the faceless people enjoy themselves. They dance around him mindlessly, but there is no music.  

            A man joins him at the bar and Dean knows who it is before he even looks at him. He tries not to look but as always, his head turns and he’s face to face with John Winchester. No matter how many times he’s had this dream he’s still surprised to see his Father’s face, absent of the insanity that plagued him for so many years. They never say anything, Dean always tries to, but the words never seem to come out.

            Dean just stares, trapped in his own body as John drinks his beer. The cross hangs heavily around his father’s neck, a reminder of his religious insanity. Still, he looks so normal in his old worn jeans and leather jacket that can now be found over Dean’s shoulders; it’s how he imagines his Father looked before their mother passed.

 The complete silence combined with the flurry of activity unsettles Dean as it always does. There is no sound when Dean drinks or when their beers hit the counter. There’s no sound as John finishes his beer and throws some change on the counter.

The only sound is his Father’s voice, “See you around, son.”

            Dean doesn’t stop him, just watches him exit the bar. He’s so frustrated, he always fucking _leaves_ and Dean never gets a chance to say a goddamn thing. He just wakes up and has to accept that his dad is long gone and he already blew his chance to say shit years ago.

            He turns back to the bar, his self-hatred boiling under his skin. Why isn’t the dream fucking over yet? Usually it just ends when the door closes behind his father.

            Dean tries to wake himself up, but can’t seem to get ahold of his consciousness and eventually he stops trying. The dream plays out, he orders another beer and tries to leave his seat, but something keeps him firmly stuck there. The other patrons continue to ignore him, as usual. The taste of beer is barely there, it is one of the only tells that he is still dreaming.

            It feels like he sits there for hours in silence and by the time another person joins him at the bar, he’s nearly forgotten that this is a dream.

            “Hello Dean.”

            He knows that voice.

            “Cas?” Dean’s own voice surprises him. Why couldn’t he speak before?

 Cas is in his tan trench coat, now clean and dirt free.  His tie is on backwards and his hairs just as much a mess as it always is. Dean sometimes wonders if he has ever bothered to comb his hair.

            “There’s not much time left, Dean.” Cas says, placing his hand on his shoulder, his tone serious. “I don’t want to go.”

            What? “What do you mean, where you going Cas?”

            Castiel glances over his shoulder as two black shadows enter the bar, seemingly invisible.

“I don’t want to go.” Cas pleads, his voice shaky. His grip on Dean tightens and Dean reaches out, holding Castiel in place.

            “Don’t worry, I got you. You’re not going anywhere.”

            The two shadows come up behind Cas and he holds onto him tighter. The other patrons in the bar have disappeared. Castiel shivers and hugs himself to Dean.

            “Please.” Castiel murmurs. “I don’t want to go.”

            Dean hugs him back tightly as the two shadows wrap their phantom limbs around Cas and start to pull.  The shadows hiss in anger when he doesn’t move. Fear clouds Dean’s mind and he holds onto Cas tighter, his arms shaking with the panic filling his mind. The bar has disappeared, leaving nothing in its place.

            “Get back! He doesn’t want to go with you!” Dean shouts as they start to pull and tug harder. The shadows grow and swell, revealing eyes and teeth. Dean can feel Cas tire, his grip slowly weakening. His hands are curling, turning into claws as the grip weakens and the shadows pull impossibly harder. Castiel’s grip releases for a moment and Dean tries to make up for it, but Cas is being ripped from Dean’s arms, just like that.

            Dean snarls, chasing after the shadows as they pull Cas away. The expression on Castiel’s face is complete defeat, submission and just seeing it makes him furious.

            “Cas! Cas fight you son of a bitch! Dammit c’mon!”

            “Dean!”

            Dean jerks awake. Castiel is standing over him, strong and unharmed. His hand rests on Dean’s shoulder as if he had to shake Dean awake.

            “You were having a nightmare.” Cas explains. “I apologize, you called my name.”

            Dean feels his face heat at that, but there is no judgment in Castiel’s expression, just simple concern and Dean relaxes back into his bed. He really wishes Castiel didn’t position himself outside Dean’s door every night as if it was his duty to keep Dean safe like he’s some pretty princess.

            Instead of telling him this, Dean simply thanks Cas for waking him. He did do Dean a favor. He didn’t want stuck in that dream for another second.

            Castiel nods and Dean glances at the clock, it’s three am. Great. In the two weeks Cas has been here, he’s only woke Dean twice from nightmares. Dean’s thankful he hasn’t been having as many lately because otherwise it’d be almost every night.

            “Are you alright?” Castiel asks in concern, seeming hesitant to leave his side. Dean smiles.

            “Yeah, I’m good Cas. I’m gonna try to go back to sleep.”

            Castiel nods and slowly exits his room, back to his post as he says. No matter what Dean tells him the guy just won’t go to his bed and sleep. Castiel obviously needs it, Dean finds him asleep on the floor outside his room every single morning.

            He sighs, Dean doesn’t think he’ll be able to convince Cas to go sleep in his room anytime soon. In the meantime, he listens for Cas outside his door to lull himself to sleep.

            It starts raining at some point, which soothes his mind for a while. The rain is nice background to the silence that had been a source of unease in his dream. Dean is nearly asleep when a loud clap of thunder rattles the windows.   
He sighs, he was so close to sleep.

            A second later the door swings open and Cas stumbles in looking wide eyed and panicked. “Dean! Are you alright? We need to go.”

            Dean wipes the fatigue from his eyes. “Why?”

            “There’s something attacking your house. Did you not feel it? It must be massive.” Castiel explains and Dean laughs.

            “It was just thunder Cas.” Of course, Castiel probably hasn’t heard thunder before, who knows how far underground he lived.

            Castiel’s head tilts in a way that reminds Dean of a confused dog.

            “Thunder?”

            “Yeah, it’s thunder. Nothing to worry about.”

            Castiel’s offensive stance relaxes and he returns to his usual straight posture. “Thunder sounds so much louder here.” Castiel says, his scrunched in distress. “I apologize for waking you.”

            Castiel goes to close the door but Dean stops him.

            “Cas wait.” He pauses, contemplating his next words. “C’mere.” God, what is he doing?

            Castiel steps closer cautiously, like he always does when he enters Dean’s space. Dean moves to the other side of his bed, it’s a king sized bed, he can share no problem.

            He pats the other side of the bed nervously, his palms warm. “There’s no point in sleeping on the hard floor Cas when I have a whole half of a bed for you to use if you want.” Dean says nervously, gauging his reaction. He doesn’t want Cas to see more into the offer than anyone else would. Dean’s trying to be nice, Cas needs a bed and he needs to protect, he can easily do both this way. He doesn’t look like he’s thinking about all the other things that Dean is _definitely_ not thinking about. Dean knows he’s perfectly capable of sticking to his side of the bed and keeping his hands to himself.

            “C’mon Cas.” Dean grins, hoping it comes off as a friendly invitation. And then he says something stupid as always, “I promise not to feel you up without your permission.”

            Jesus why’d he say that. It’s what he’d say to anyone else in this situation, but Cas isn’t anyone else he’s…Cas.

            Dean expects Castiel to just walk out of the room, or maybe express his discomfort, but to Dean’s surprise he actually smiles.

            “I have no doubt you are capable of behaving yourself Dean, but I think I’d prefer to stand outside for the remainder of the night. I’ll be just outside if you require anything.”

            Dean holds back the urge to say he can take care of himself, but he stops. Cas is just trying to do his “duty” after all.

            “Fine. Back to your post soldier.” He says instead and salutes him, which earns him an actual laugh. Castiel doesn’t laugh often, but it’s good to hear it especially after Dean made such an awkward request.

            “Goodnight Dean.” Cas says, closing the door.

            The second the door closes. Dean feels a pang in his chest. Rejection, he realizes after a moment. What the hell?

            He buries the feeling with all the other untouched Cas related feelings, writing it away as late night vulnerability. He pulls the covers around himself. It’s almost four in the morning now, he’s barely slept. Fantastic, he has to go back to work tomorrow and he’ll have to somehow find time to catch some extra sleep.

            Dean tosses and turns and eventually finds himself staring at the door for reasons he can’t explain. His mind is mostly empty, the memory of his nightmare from earlier in the night completely forgotten. At some point he must fall asleep and it doesn’t last long, it never does on nights like this when he has everything and nothing on his mind. It’s nearly five in the morning when Dean sighs awake and stands, hearing a small thump on the other side of the door. It’s not a knock, something more subtle, like Cas leaning against it in exhaustion.

            When Dean opens his door he finds Cas on the ground as predicted, asleep. His hands are tucked into his chest as if he was cold.

            “Hey, Buddy” Dean murmurs softly, gently placing his hands on his friend’s arms. Castiel stirs, blinking up at Dean.

            “Come on, no more sleeping on the damn floor.” Dean pulls him up,  Cas stands on shaky legs, still half asleep. His eyes blink slowly, staying closed for more than a few seconds before opening them again.

            Dean brings him into his room and it’s only when Dean sets him on the bed that he finally seems to understand.

            “Dean no, I don’t-“ Dean silences him with a look and Cas glares.

            “Sleep.” Dean tells him before climbing to the other side of the bed. Castiel will do what he says this time, Dean knows it. Cas is too tired to fight. He smiles when he feels Castiel lay down on top of the covers beside him. At least he’s going to be sleeping on a bed rather than the hard floor.

            Dean falls asleep easily this time. His eyes close and his minds drift without the nagging worry of Cas sleeping on the hard floor. He takes comfort in the feel of the warm body sleeping beside him.

            …

            Dean wakes the next morning more well-rested than he’s felt all week. His eyes open without protest and he finds that he’s turned towards Castiel during the night. Cas is thankfully still asleep, curled into his pillow on top of the covers. Without the fog of exhaustion its apparent how completely drained Cas is. The dark bags under his eyes are more prominent in the morning light.

            It’s easy for Dean to sit up and remove his covers without waking Cas. His friend is fast asleep, undisturbed. It’s nice to see him looking so peaceful, he always seems so troubled. Dean places his covers over Castiel and heads for the shower.

            Once under the water he lets his mind drift, which automatically means his thoughts drift to Cas. He can’t seem to get him off his mind since he got here, whether that’s because he’s not used to living alone or something else, he’d prefer not to think about it.

            The thing is he’s never this protective or careful with anyone. Castiel is far from a child and could easily take care of himself, but when Dean sees him acting like a martyring idiot, he just has to help him. The fact that he fucking _worries_ about him when he’s two feet away is ridiculous.

            It’s not just that either, the day he found Cas sitting on the windowsill after that first night, there’s been this warm feeling in his chest whenever Cas so much as looks at him. He usually just beats the feeling back, uncomfortable with its intensity, but now with Castiel in his room after just sleeping within a few inches of him Dean lets the feeling simmer. For once he lets himself feel it and goddammit the second he even analyzes the feeling he recognizes it.

            Want.

            Fuck, this is why Dean lives alone; he gets too attached too fucking quickly. Jesus it’s only been two weeks since Cas came along and he already feels like this?

            The worst part is that it’s not just the physical want. He just…wants the guy. He’s gotten himself hooked on Cas, the way he talks, how he is so appreciative for every goddamn thing, the way he somehow makes the little things seem so important, his deadpan sense of humor. Dean’s not sure when he started feeling this way, whether it was day one or just now, but he feels it alright.

            His mind brings forth a montage of images, the first day with Castiel stepping into his Impala, looking tired and cautious. Castiel staring at the sunrise on the hood of his Impala, just appreciating the beauty of it.  He wonders what Castiel was thinking in that moment, having never seen the sunrise before.

He thinks about that night Sam came over with the offer to help Castiel. Castiel had beat his ass at some stupid card games before Sam came over. Dean remembers now that he made a bet to his brother that this wouldn’t happen. That he wouldn’t end up with freaking _feelings_ for Cas. Figures, he always loses these things and ends up $50 short.

            More recent images flood his mind, ones from just yesterday where he brought Cas to the park to show him around and Castiel just sat on a bench and watched all the people as they walked by. Dean had told him a bit more about his Father, Castiel talked about his brothers and their antics. Castiel’s life didn’t seem all that abnormal when he spoke, just a large family with normal family problems like anyone else, minus the stuff about the rations and military regime and the fact he lived under the Earth.

            Dean sighs and shuts off the water; at least he goes back today. Less thinking and acting time for him. He wonders if Cas will figure it out, he’s never been that perceptive in regards to romantic feelings but Castiel is far from stupid. He’ll probably figure it out sooner rather than later if Dean isn’t careful.

            While brushing his teeth he makes an effort to stuff the feelings away in a corner where he won’t have to think about it. Castiel is just outside and Dean will no doubt be obvious as fuck if he goes out in the state he’s in, all shaking hands and gooseflesh along his arms. He tries to rub them away but they stubbornly remain.

            Dean throws on his normal clothes, a black t-shirt and jeans, before returning to the bedroom. Castiel is waking up now, though he looks like all he wants to do is go back to bed.

            “Dean?” He asks sleepily.

            “Morning sunshine.”

            Dean flings open the blinds knowing how Castiel will cringe back under the covers.

            “ _Dean_.” Castiel groans and Dean laughs.

            “That’s what you get, lazy basterd.” Dean says jokingly and Dean is proud when Castiel defiantly curls under the covers he placed there earlier. Finally, Castiel acting out a little.

            “So, Cas.” Dean says loudly, earning him a whining sound coming from the bed. “Whatcha gonna do around here without me?”

            That seems to get a reaction. Castiel sits up and stares at Dean, sleepiness forgotten for the moment. “You’re not going to be here today?”

            “Gotta work today Cas, remember? I’ve been lazing around here with you for the past two weeks. Any longer and Bobby will probably fire me.” Dean says keeping his tone light. Bobby probably wouldn’t fire him no matter how much time he took off, the urge to call him now and say he needs another day is tempting.

            “Oh.” Castiel sounds disappointed. Dean tries not to feel hopeful.

            Dean grins and forces the swell in his chest back. “Don’t worry Cas, I’ll be back around five. You remember my phone number right? You can always call me.”

            “Of course I remember, Dean.” He says defensively and Dean chuckles.

            “Good.”

            The phone rings and he checks the caller ID.

            “Speaking of phones Cas, only answer it if the phone says it’s me. Caller ID will say my name.” Dean explains and Cas nods.

The current caller ID is from a cell phone number he doesn’t recognize. Probably someone from work, he keeps most cell numbers in his cell contacts lately.

            “Hello?”

            “Ah, Dean Winchester.” The voice on the other line is unfamiliar and distinctly feminine. “How’re you doing?”

            Dean glances at Castiel who is observing him quietly with a blank expression. Dean suddenly feels his stomach sink. “Great, thanks. Who is this?”

            “Oh, I apologize. This is Naomi from Fusion Research. I’m calling to ask about subject…” She stops for a moment and he can practically hear her confusion through the phone. “Subject C. Castiel.”

            “Yes, what about him?” Dean says, no longer friendly. How’d they even get his whole name anyway? He doesn’t remember Cas saying it when he was there.

            “How is he?”

            Dean glances back at Cas who can surely hear the whole conversation. “How’re you doin Cas?”

            “Great, thank you.” Castiel answers.

            “He’s great.”

            “That is good to hear.” Naomi says cheerily. “I’m pleased that he’s done so well in your care. I’d love to know more in person, just to let you know we’ll be picking up Subject C later today, sometime around—“

            Dean stops listening, “Woah, woah you’re not taking Cas.”

            The dream he had from earlier in the night comes rushing back, shadows taking Cas away as he is helpless to stop it. He’s not gonna let them take Cas, no way.

            “You’re time is up, Mr. Winchester. You don’t have to take care of the subject any longer, you will still receive your payment if that’s what you’re concerned about.” Naomi tells him with no emotion. Dean feels anger burning under his skin.

            “I don’t care about the money. I’m worried about what happens to Cas.”

            Dean glances back and although his friend’s expression is just as blank as it was a moment ago, he can see the apparent fear in his eyes now.

            “Do you want to go back to Fusion, Cas?”

            Castiel pauses for a moment, as if he’s contemplating the prospect of returning to Fusion. Dean knows he didn’t like it there, there’s no way he could have, but Castiel doesn’t like to rely on people. He knows Cas hates it when Dean takes care of him, but that’s just who Dean is, he has to take care of people.

            Dean already knows he’ll say no when Cas opens his mouth, but he still feels intense relief when Castiel says, loud and firm, “No.”

            “He doesn’t want to go back, Ma’am.” Dean says smugly. He can hear this Naomi chick huff on the other line and goddammit the sound is so fucking _satisfying_.

            “Mr. Winchester. _Cas_ has to come back, he signed a document saying he would follow our orders and he must obey them or face severe legal consequences.”

            Sure, legal consequences. “Yeah he signed it _sure_. He put a fucking Enochian sigil on there, it means nothing.”

            “You signed it too, Mr. Winchester.”

            Fuck, she’s got him there. He’s about to say some smartass comeback, but she hangs up. Smart girl; hang up before he can beat her at her own stupid game.

            “Dean?” Castiel says nervously and shit, Cas is legitimately worried about going back there.

            “You’re not going back there Cas. I won’t let it happen.”

            “I know you won’t Dean.” Cas says, picking himself off the bed and coming to stand beside him. “But Dean, please don’t put yourself at risk for my sake.”

            Cas places a hand over Dean’s shoulder and it’s something he’s picked up from Dean through his time here. He’s been gradually getting more comfortable with touch, space, and just generally allowing himself some freedom when it comes to human interaction. In some ways, Dean thinks he’s helped get Cas what he wants, his freedom.

            It’s why Dean shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts that he is. The ones that want to ask Cas to come closer, to push himself further. The image of kissing Cas is filling his head and the next moment he’s leaning forward, still at a safe distance but getting closer. He thinks about how warm Cas would be, about how his ever present stubble would feel dragging against his chin, over his cheek. How it would start out tender and innocent before escalating into passion, because that’s Cas. Gentle and polite on the outside but once you get to the core, he’d be all fire and passion.

Dean’s only seen glimpses of the badass Cas hides within himself, the fire he keeps so restrained. Dean knows it’s there.

Dean’s still leaning in, his fantasies blurring into reality.He opens his eyes, and Cas is right there, his mouth slightly agape. He’s too close, far too close. He can see the spots in Castiel’s eyes mixed in with the icy blue. How could he be so obvious already? Goddammit he didn’t even make it through the fucking morning, what is he? Some infatuated teenage girl?

His face is on fire surely, he pulls back. Cas is staring at him, his expression unreadable. Dean’s not sure how badly he fucked up, but from the looks of it it’s bad. Fuck, now things are gonna be weird and Cas won’t ever be able to look him in the eye again and-

Cas’s hands are on his face, his eyes meeting Dean’s in wonder.

“You…Do you?”

The incomplete question weighs heavily in the air. He knows that tone and Dean is somewhere in Nirvana chanting _holy fucking shit_ because God, he had no fucking clue Cas felt the same way, he didn’t even show any sign of it, did he?

The next second Dean is pulling Cas to him, their lips meeting somewhere in the middle. Whatever Dean was expecting moments earlier, this was impossibly better. It’s so…well _real._ Dean was right about Castiel’s passion, he’s practically made of the stuff.  Dean can feel it in the way he moves his lips or how Castiel’s fingers are now tangling in his hair, like he wants to hold him there. Dean wouldn’t mind that.

Heat blurs his mind and his entire body is hot and screaming for Cas. He should be careful, he needs to be careful, but all he wants to do is pull Cas into him and just keep him there.

Cas finally pulls back, breathless. “Dean.”

Dean’s hands are shaking as his hands come up to frame Cas’s face. “Jeez Cas, have you been practicing?”

“I’ve never….I’ve never experienced this before. Is this normal for people?”

Dean laughs loudly, the insecurity in Castiel’s voice calming him. “Is it normal to make out like horny teenagers? Yeah Cas, it’s normal if you like someone.”

“I like you, Dean.”

“I’m getting that now, Cas.” 

Castiel smiles and Dean goes in for another kiss. He had it all in reverse, the first kiss was the fire and passion and now after the fire has dimmed does Dean press lighter kisses onto Cas’s mouth. His hands find their way from Dean’s hair onto his shoulders, pulling him closer. Cas returns Dean’s tender affection, though he is a bit experienced, unsure of where exactly on Dean’s lips to put his mouth.

Cas pulls back and Dean can read the silent uncertainty in Castiel’s eyes.

“Yeah takes some getting used to I guess.” Dean says in comfort. The questions in Castiel’s eyes only seem to grow.

“This feeling seems too intense to get used to, I’ve never…”

Castiel pauses, at a loss for words.

Dean drags the pad of his thumb over Castiel’s cheek. “First kisses tend to feel like that.” Dean grins, and finds himself laughing without reason. “Though I must admit, you seemed pretty confident for your first kiss. Been watching too much Doctor Sexy?”

Castiel’s face reddens. “I’m only trying to understand why you like it so much. You’re the one who insisted I watch the whole first season.”

Dean grins widely, presses a kiss onto Cas’s neck because holy shit, he _can._ It was less than an hour ago he suddenly realized the true nature of how he feels about Cas and now Cas is making out with him?

“Cas when did you decide you wanted to kiss me?” Dean asks suddenly and Cas’s eyes widen.

“I’m not sure….just a few moments ago I suppose.” Castiel says, shrugging.

“A few moments ago?”

“I don’t know Dean, I suppose I’ve admired you since I arrived here, but _this_ feeling is new to me. When you got close, I…something happened and I…just knew what I wanted is all.”

It’s unbelievable really, that only an hour ago Dean was finally admitting these feelings to himself and now he has Castiel pressed against him, somehow feeling the same way. These kinds of things just don’t happen to him.

There’s wonder in Castiel’s expression, and curiosity when his hand rises to cup Dean’s face. “I’ve never had intimacy before.”

“I know.” Dean replies, leaning his head into Castiel’s hand, fascinated by the feel of the other man’s hand on his skin.

Castiel looks worried. “Tell me if I do something wrong, I still don’t know all the rules to your culture.”

“Don’t worry so much, Cas. I doubt you’ll do anything wrong. Just do what feels right.” Dean tells him, pressing himself impossibly closer, sighs. “I gotta go to work.”

There’s never been a moment where he wanted to go to work less, but he has to go, Bobby expects him there. Cas makes a whining sound as he untangles himself from their embrace.

“Can we do more of… _this_ , when you get back?” Castiel asks innocently.

He squeezes Castiel’s hand and grabs his gloves off the shelf. “Course Cas, call it a date.”

Xxx

Dean’s worries. The whole fucking day.

            It feels like he’s left a child at home alone, except it isn’t, because Cas isn’t a child. He’s a grown adult who can take care of himself. Still, images of various disasters fly through his head all day. The house catching fire, robbery, explosions, and even Cas just falling down the stairs worries him.

            The call from Fusion this morning hasn’t helped his worries either. What are they planning for Cas anyway? Are they going to force him back? Not that they can really, Dean won’t let that happen.

            It’s a struggle for him to focus on his work. The Escalade he’s currently working on has a faulty brake and he should’ve been done with it by now except all he can think about is Cas. Even when he’s not worrying about Cas, he’s still thinking about him. The kiss this morning was unexpected. The wave of feelings? Not so much, he knows he’s been denying it for some time now, subconsciously. Those are far less surprising than the actual intimacy that’s suddenly present in their friendship. He hasn’t lived with someone he was intimate with in years and he surely has never been with anyone quite like Castiel.

            He has to be careful, he decides. Cas is new to all this, he can’t rush into it. The whole rushing thing is a little too late, considering they haven’t really talked over the whole thing yet. They just kind of jumped in, which is mostly Dean’s fault because he apparently can’t fantasize and talk at the same time without acting out. Though Dean’s not sure it could’ve happened any other way, neither of them would’ve said a thing about what they were feeling in any case.

            The phone rings and Dean drops his wrench, cursing as it lands on his foot. He pulls his cell out angrily, not bothering to check the caller ID.

            “Goddammit, Hello?”

            Sam’s chuckle comes from the other end of the line, “Hey, Dean. You finally back working.”

            “Yeah. Fixing a brake right now, what’s up?”

            Sam ignores his question. “Where’s Cas?”

“Back home. You found anything on Fusion?”

“Shit. Yeah, that’s why I called.” Sam says, his tone troubled. “I was hoping he’d stick with you. I just hacked the Fusion website and I think Cas is in danger.”

Dean’s throat closes, dread making its way through him.

It takes a moment for him to speak, but he manages to choke out, “Who...why is Cas is danger?”

In the background, Dean can hear Sam shuffle around and the distinctive sound of a mouse clicking. “They’re a Satanist cult, Dean. I got Ash and we hacked into their website. At first it seemed normal, you know? There was research, education and all that junk, but then we hacked into one of the members accounts and it’s all this stuff about spells and sacrifices. I think they’re going to try and sacrifice all those people, Dean.”

His heart thuds loudly in his chest. He writes a quick note to Bobby, he’s got to go check on Cas _now._

“But Sam, that doesn’t make any _sense_. Why would they hand Cas and all those other people off if they were just gonna sacrifice them?” He’s not sure if his logic makes sense right now, his heart is too loud in his hears and he needs to be home five minutes ago.

His hands shake as he slides the key into the ignition. The Impala roars to life and for once, he doesn’t care about Baby’s tires as he peels out of the parking lot.

The sound of clicking and typing makes its way over the phone again. “Not entirely sure. From the looks of it they needed angels who have sinned and then angels of pure innocence and light. Maybe that has something to do with it?” Sam sounds unsure, but to Dean that sounds about right.

“Good enough for me. Christ, these people sound like a bunch of crazies. How long has this been going on?” Just a few more minutes and he’ll be pulling in the drive way. And Cas will not be lying in a puddle of his own blo—

Dean stops that train of thought. Cas is fine. He’s fine.

“Not sure. They’ve been recording data for over 25 years. There’s a ton of shit here Dean, this would be a goldmine for any psychologist. They’ve managed to create a whole universe and basically breed people who support their cause. These people truly believe they have created angels, Dean. Human angels, but yeah.”

Finally, Dean turns the corner and pulls into his driveway. His stomach drops the second he sees his home.

“Sam, call the police.” Dean doesn’t have time to hear Sam’s reply before he’s throwing the door open and running into the house. The door has been kicked off its hinges and his front window is broken.

There must’ve been a fight because there are books and furniture and even fucking knives thrown around everywhere. For a second his eyes stop on a smear of red that he refuses to believe is blood.

“CAS!” He hollers, praying for a response.

The muffled “Dean!” that comes from the upstairs sends terror through him. Instinctually, he grabs a steak knife from one of the kitchen drawers. He would really prefer his rifle, but that would take running to the safe in his basement and he just doesn’t have time for that.

Dean climbs the stairs two, three at a time. Something crashes in his bedroom and there’s a distinct curse that is definitely not coming from Cas. With his knife in hand, Dean doesn’t hesitate to kick his bedroom door down.

If this were a movie and not real life, Dean might think this situation was completely badass. There are four guys, two on the ground recuperating from whatever Cas must’ve done to them, and two circling him like hungry sharks. The best part is they’re in fucking cloaks for Christ’s sake. They all glance over when they see Dean and he can see the “oh shit” in their eyes as Dean charges forward.

He barely hears Cas say “careful Dean,” but somehow it reaches his ears as he swipes at one of Cas’s standing attackers. The guy has a curly beard and heavy face and it’s so unlike the look Dean expected a _Satanist_ to look like that he almost stops to ask if this is a fucking joke of some kind. The look of violence on his expression is what keeps Dean surging forward with his puny knife.

His swipes give enough distraction for Castiel to come forward and take the legs out from under Curly. He falls to the ground loudly and holy shit, Cas can _fight._ Cas turns, dodging the other attacker easily as he surges forward. Cas sends him down too, with a swift kick to the gut, pulling a sword that Dean totally didn’t see coming out of his attackers cloak.

Despite the impossible situation, Dean finds himself grinning proudly. “Holy shit, Cas.”

Castiel’s eyes are hard and focused, but at Dean’s words they soften some and transform.

“Not now, Dean. We must go.”

Dean doesn’t argue. Castiel quickly grabs Dean’s shoulder and drags him down the stairs as fast as he can go.

“I think the police will be on their way.” Dean tells Cas as they make their exit. His voice sounds surprisingly calm to his own ears, especially after just fighting some murderous Satanists.

“Good, we’re going to need them immediately.” Cas states seriously, clearly still in battle mode. His eyes catch something on Dean’s neck and his expression immediately turns panicked.

A joke forms its way onto Dean’s lips, something about how they don’t need the police if Cas can take our four people _that_ easy, but the words die on his lips, because suddenly Dean’s vision is fading and somewhere he can hear the sound of a gun being fired and Cas’s pleading voice in his ear.

“Cas?” Dean asks, his eyes going blurry. Something’s coming closer, Cas probably based on the blue orbs now filling his vision. He feels a small pinprick on his neck.  “Am I hit?”

Cas’s voice is in his ear, he’s not sure what he’s saying but it sounds soothing. “You’re okay, but we have to run though Dean, c’mon.”

Dean feels himself nod and his arm go around Cas’s shoulders. It doesn’t feel like he’s hurt, so why is everything fading?

“Why can’t I—“ what was he saying again?

“You’re okay, you’re okay. Just stay with me, Dean.” Cas sounds so scared now, why is he scared?

“Sure Cas, of course.” He slurs, his tongue not cooperating to form his consonants.  

His feet drag through the grass, but he’s somehow still moving. But why? He can’t remember, someone’s in danger, he thinks. He should know, why can’t he just fucking remember? Everything is too foggy. Someone’s still holding him, Cas is holding him, that’s right.

 At some point, he must have closed his eyes, because suddenly Cas’s warmth is missing and how the heck did he end up in his neighbor’s yard?

“Don’t you touch him!” Someone growls, it sounds like Castiel, but he can’t be sure. He’s never really heard Cas sound so angry. “Don’t you fucking touch him!”

“Good Castiel, you’ve learned a lot in your time with Mr. Winchester, that’s good.” A voice says, it makes him want to puke. Just like the feel of the grass being shoved into his face makes him want to puke. “You’ll be perfect.”

Dean wants to puke…and sleep, but mostly puke. Sleep looks like it’s winning out though, because he can’t keep his eyes open.

Distantly, he can hear Castiel shouting his name. Whatever he wants will have to wait till later, because Dean is so damn _tired_.

He tries to hang onto the sound of Cas’s voice, but it fades and blurs until there’s nothing but the inside of his eyelids and the feel of grass against his face.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean’s head feels funny, heavy. Way too heavy for it to be normal, did he go drinking last night? He doesn’t think he did. He kicked that habit a while ago. Plus Cas is at home, he wouldn’t have left the poor guy there all alone, would he?

There are voices around him. Its quiet whispers at first, but the noise is growing. Dean tries to open his eyes, but they remain shut despite the effort. God, did he get roofied or something?

“We can’t bring him to Naomi, she’ll know.”

“If you would’ve just hit the right fucking guy in the first place this wouldn’t be a problem.”

The heaviness in his head is starting to lift, enough that he can open his eyes now and see two cloaked men arguing quietly across the room. Faintly, he recognizes that he’s tied down to a hard surface. A rock bed maybe? He’s not sure. He can’t see the bindings holding him down, but he pulls weakly at them anyway. He might be able to slip handcuffs or pick a lock, but if it’s something else he’s screwed.

The answering rattle that accompanies his movements makes him cringe. His captors will surely hear. Chains, really? What is this, medieval times?

One of the men turns to the sound. “He’s awake.”

Goddammit.

“Get me more sedative.”

“But we should save some for the angel, shouldn’t we?”

That sends Dean on high alert. He remembers now, someone broke into his house and tried to take Cas.

“You fuckers.” He growls, but it comes out as an unintelligible slur.

One of the man laughs at his meager attempts at speech and Dean mentally curses. “Relax, Mr. Winchester. We don’t have your precious angel quite yet, but we’ll be sure to get him here to say goodbye.” The man saunters forward, he reminds Dean of a snake somehow, a really fucking ugly one. “I think Naomi might want to keep you actually, saves her the trouble of grabbing some other human.”

The smaller man steps forward with hunched shoulders. “We need humans?”

“Just one. A righteous man is needed for the ritual to be complete.” He pulls out a needle and Dean retreats back, but his restraints hold him in place. “Even if we don’t get the angel, we will still have enough. Lucifer will rise soon, brother.”

Fuck, they are all crazy. The man comes closer with the needle, from this distance Dean can see under the hood of his cloak. He’s bald and looks far too old and human to be worshipping the Devil. All the Devil worshippers his father showed him had been menacing and dark, inhuman looking. This guy looks all too human, like a cranky neighbor or a shitty boss.

The man has no hesitation as his needle comes closer and closer to Dean’s forearm. Dean tugs harder at his restraints, if only he could get his arm free he could-

The needle pierces his skin and the man grins while Dean squirms. There’s not as much pain as he expected, but the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness hits him like a wave and he’s lost again.

Xxx

Dean wakes up again, different room, same restraints. He’s dizzy as fuck this time. Aware at least, but dizzy. He recognizes the two figures in the room again and wonders where the hell he is. Is he at Fusion? He must be, where else would they do their sacrifice?

Dean remains still as possible this time to not alert the others to his awareness. He just observes, his eyes rolling in his head as he looks for a way to get out of the chains.

One of the men answers his phone, it’s the smaller one who clearly needs to grow a pair.

“Hello? Yes, you have him? He turned himself in!?” The man squeaks, causing his partner to give him a stern look. “But why would he…Yes, we’ll be there immediately.”

“What’s going on?”

“Subject 13…Castiel. Castiel, he’s turned himself into Fusion.”

Dean’s stomach drops. No no no, they got Cas? He turned himself--they must’ve threatened Dean or something, there’s no way Cas would just hand himself over. Cas is a fighter.

“I’ll go get him, bring him here.” The small one says again. “He’s our responsibility and Naomi won’t kill us.”

“Go then.” The man snaps, and his partner scurries out like a wounded animal.

Dean closes his eyes to keep up the disguise and hears the other man in the room sigh loudly.

“I know you’re awake Winchester. You’re breath stutters when you’re not sleeping.” Shit, cover blown.

Dean sits up as much as he can, which only gets him to about halfway from sitting straight. His stomach hurts as he turns to look Baldy in the eye.

“What the fuck are you going to do to Cas?” Dean snarls, yanking the chains as far as they will go.

Baldy looks indifferent, glancing between the dirt under his nails and Dean, as if they are one of the same.

“Kill him.” He says and Dean jerks at the chains. “Spill his blood and paint with it bucko. We’re summoning the Devil, we’re gonna get our hands dirty.” The man grins as he says this, as if he finds the image appealing.

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to think past the rage and fear in his head. He’s gotta get out of here, there is no way he’s going to allow them to kill Cas, there is just no way that can happen.

“Why? What’s in it for you?” He asks, distracting himself because why the hell would anyone want to summon Satan?

“Ultimate power. Our books, our spells, they give us things you couldn’t imagine.” He says and Dean scoffs.

“Sure, ultimate power. You know what you are gonna have if you sacrifice a bunch of people to the Devil? Just a big pile of dead people and a lifetime in prison.”

Baldy glares, “You don’t believe.”

Dean laughs without humor. “Course not. I spent my childhood being taught this pile of bullshit and that’s all it is, bullshit. My Dad thought a demon named Azazel killed his wife, but you know what it was really? A fire, it was just a goddamn fire.” Dean’s hands ball into fists as he pulls at the chains. Suddenly, he’s glad for them, because he needs something to hold him back from tearing this man’s face out.

“Hm, Azazel.” The man hums, watching Dean rage the way a man watches television. “Strong demon, he is said to be the personification of wickedness.”

Baldy apparently has a hard-on for this demon Azazel, because after that he goes on and on about him. Dean tries to keep his expression neutral, but if there were a way Dean could saw his ears off right now, he would. He hasn’t talked about the demon stuff in years for a reason.

The door opens then and the scrawny man drags in a handcuffed Castiel in like he’s conquered a great army.

Dean isn’t sure what he expected Cas to look like when he saw him again, but it certainly wasn’t this. He looks almost bored, annoyed even. He has a split lip and bruised eye, but Dean can’t help but feel relieved it’s nothing worse. Dean can see him calculating as Mr. Chicken-shit beams at his superior.

“We got him, we’re in the clear. Crisis averted.”

Castiel lifts his bored gaze and it’s then that he sees Dean. For a moment he just stares in shock before he smiles and mouth’s “found you.” Dean tries to offer him a small smile and a wave, but winces as the chains cut deeper into his wrists. Cas’s features cloud over with concern and he steps forward.

“Don’t move, Castiel.” Baldy commands and shorty shrinks back at how loud his voice is. He comes up behind Cas and grabs the link between his cuffs and shoves him forward. Castiel lets his body fall forward and onto his knees in front of Dean’s bed, where he remains restrained. “I’ll let you say goodbye to your boyfriend before we get Naomi in here. It’s the last time you’ll be seeing him before we spill your guts.”

The glare Castiel gives Baldy is dark and dangerous. It sets even Dean shrinking back a little. He’s never seen Cas look so _menacing_.

It’s kind of awesome, actually.

“It is unwise to threaten Dean in front of me, _Zachariah._ ” Castiel rumbles and wow, they know each other. That changes things up a bit.

Zachariah snorts. “Like you could do anything, little seraph. I have an archangel’s power now, you can’t touch me, so say goodbye to your friend and let’s get this show on the road.”

Castiel nods and leans in closer to Dean, close enough that he can feel the man’s breath on his ear.

“Do exactly as I say from this moment on.” Castiel whispers softly in his ear. Under any other circumstances that would send Dean’s heart racing for a completely different reason, which he really shouldn’t be thinking about right now. “Just follow my lead. I’ve got you.”

God, this is beginning to sound like a porno, and feel like one as Cas kisses Dean’s jaw, rises to mouth his earlobe, before moving to his lips. Dean really hopes this isn’t his goodbye because he really wants to get Cas in bed sometime. He knows that this is Castiel’s first anything and how is he so _skilled_ already? Did he look up some porn before he turned himself in?

Castiel’s tongue reaches out to touch Dean’s mouth and holy shit, this is really not the time. He _really really_ wants to touch Cas right now, but the damn restraints are holding his arms down and Castiel hushes him soothingly.

“Cas.” He whimpers out, the fact that he could die any moment now is momentarily forgotten. Cas goes in for another kiss and Dean submits, ignoring the two Satan worshipers in the room.

“Okay Castiel, that’s quite enough-“ Zacheriah says and Dean can sense the man moving closer to pull them apart. For a moment, Dean panics because they can’t take Cas away, not yet. Not when they-

Cas breaks away from the kiss and Dean catches a mischievous glint in his eye as he turns. Zacheriah is reaching to grab him when Castiel lands a vicious kick to his ribs. Zacheriah hunches over and Castiel takes the moment to elbow him to the ground. He then lands a swift kick for good measure before turning on the frightened man-child who is now backed into a corner.

Castiel doesn’t do anything, just stares before he says, “Give me the keys to our restraints and run.”

“How did you, he’s a-“

“Human, just like every other angel here.” Castiel finishes. Dean couldn’t be more proud of him.

Without hesitation, the man throws him the keys and runs out the door.

“That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen, Cas.” Dean says, mouth agape.

“I don’t know what you mean, but I’m assuming it’s a compliment.” Castiel answers in typical fashion.

Dean grins. “Don’t worry, it is.”

A moment later, Dean is free of his stupid chains and Castiel is dragging him through the halls of Fusion.

“We need to get out of here, now.” Castiel is saying and Dean agrees. He wants to get out the door and burn the place on his way out.

“Fine by me. You know the way out?”

“Yes, the police will soon be here as well.”

“Good.”

The halls all look the same, so Dean just trusts that Cas knows where he is going. They go down another plain white hall, then another, then another before Dean recognizes anything.

“I feel like I was here before.”

“You were, we took this route on the way out of the building when we first met.”

“How romantic, Cas.” Dean says sarcastically. It’s really no time for jokes, but Dean’s not entirely in his right mind at the moment.

They walk to the end of the hall. There’s a chorus of chatter filling the halls and they both slow at the sound. It’s only a moment before Cas drags him right instead of left, which he’s 60% sure is the wrong way.

“Ugh, Cas? I think the exit is that way.” Dean squeezes and tugs lightly on the grip Castiel has on his hand.

“It is.”

            Dean stares in confusion, but doesn’t fight him. “Where we heading then?”

            “I must free my brothers and sisters before they are butchered.”

            Okay, good plan. Save his family, he’s game for that.

            Dean has no idea how Cas knows where he’s going, but his actions seem sure and he isn’t surprised when a minute later they’re standing in front of a room with long iron bars and about forty-five people locked behind them.

            The second they see Castiel, there is uproar, they are all shouting his name and pleading for help. Dean feels tempted to cover his ears, but as he spares a glance towards Castiel, he sees that the man has frozen up.

            “Cas?” Dean squeezes his hand. “Come on, Cas.”

            He shakes his head, his eyes clearing as they settle on Dean.

            “I apologize I…am not used to this kind of responsibility.” Cas mumbles, his voice shaky in a way Dean’s become familiar with. Cas is the bravest person he knows, but he knows how much pressure has just been put on Cas’s shoulders, it’d make anyone stop for a moment.

            “It’s okay Cas, let’s just get them out and get out of here.”

            Cas nods and starts searching for the key to the iron bars. It’s easy enough to find, sitting on the desk for anyone to grab. It looks like the guard that was here split, for a moment, Dean thinks it’s almost too easy.

            “Cas wait, what if it’s a trap?”

            Cas stares at him for a weighted pause before he shoves the key into the lock and sets his siblings free.

            They all storm out like a wild herd and Dean is disgruntled when he does not hear one thank you from any of Cas’s brothers or sisters. Cas doesn’t seem to mind, he stares pleased as his siblings make their way to freedom. It’s only until they’re all nearly out of the cage when one boy steps forward and pulls Castiel into a fierce hug.

            “Thank you, Castiel.” He says and Cas’s expression softens.

            “No need to thank me, Samandriel. You must go.” Castiel smiles and returns the embrace before shooing him to follow the others.

            Dean grins at Castiel’s look of triumph and pats the man on the back.

            “Man, you’re a real hero today Cas.”

            Castiel laughs lightly. “No.”

            “An angel then?” Dean suggests. “A guardian angel? You did come and save my ass.”

            “Guardian human then, Dean. I am no angel, angels do not walk this Earth.”

            Dean scoffs, places his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “There are angels all around ya, Cas. Maybe not the ones you read about, but they’re there. You’ll always have a little bit of angel stuff in you, just because you’re a human being doesn’t change that.”

            Castiel grins and Dean plants gentle kiss on his lips.

            “Thank you, Dean.”

            Dean and Castiel follow the herd out to freedom.

Xxx

            At the end of it all, Cas thinks the whole thing with Fusion went far too smoothly for it to be real. He’s waiting for the bad news, for when Fusion calls again or they end up at Dean’s front door trying to take him away, but a month, two months slip by and the day never comes. Sometimes, he’s not sure what to do with no orders or urgent duties to attend to, but Dean is happy.

            He is happy too, at least he thinks so. It’s a new feeling really, he only had glimpses of it in Heaven, but here curled up against Dean’s sleeping form he feels happy.

            Sam received a promotion after taking down Fusion in the courtroom, even appeared on the television which Dean says is a big deal. The corporation itself was a fraud so Dean says Sam technically had an easy time taking them down, but it sure brought in a lot of money and publicity. They called it _Fusion: the Devil in Disguise_ in the newspapers and at the firm where Sam works. He sounded almost excited about it when he came over to explain it to Dean and it settled Cas’s nerves to know those responsible for killing four of his brothers and kidnapping Dean are locked away.

            That was a week ago, and Castiel is now settled permanently in Dean’s home. The government helped get him an identity, as well as give all his siblings one as well. They really didn’t know what to do with it, but Castiel is sure they’ll learn fast. There are far too many resources here for them to remain clueless.

            They were also offered temporary places to stay as well as job recommendations and advice, generally everything for them to get on their feet as productive members of society. He knows Anna was interested in law enforcement of some kind and Gabriel said he wants to do something with the food here, so maybe there’s something out there for all of them.

            Castiel isn’t sure what he wants to do with his mortal life at the moment, he’s perfectly fine just spending it here with Dean, but he knows he has to pull his weight at some point, despite Dean’s insistence that he can do whatever he wants.

            For today though, he’s willing to put that off. He has plans.

            “Cas?” Dean rasps sleepily, the arm around Castiel tightening. “Mmm, you’re warm.”

            Dean nestles into the crook of Castiel’s neck and he finds himself smiling, as he does every morning when Dean feels the need to turn him into a pillow.

            “Dean?” Cas questions as Dean falls silent. There’s no response, but he cards his fingers through Dean’s hair, knowing he’ll wake soon.

            It’s only a few moments before Dean huffs against Castiel’s shoulder and sits up. “I’m awake.”

            “I can tell.”

            Dean laughs and places a chaste kiss on Cas’s mouth. Castiel accepts it, pulling Dean closer when he tries to back away.

 “Want to repeat last night?” Dean purrs with a wink, his hips moving seductively against Castiel’s side, the feel of his bare skin beneath the covers causing him to tremble.

He tries to keep a hold of his current train of thought as Dean presses kisses along his collarbone. “In a moment…I need too…I must ask you something.”

Dean moves from his collarbone to trail his lips against Castiel’s neck, working his way back up to Castiel’s mouth. “Ask away.” Dean says, the words muffled by Castiel’s skin.

Dean’s tongue glides along the seam of his mouth and Castiel’s thoughts momentarily trickle out of his mind. Dean is too good at this; he can easily make Cas lose all his control. It was a trick he learned a long while ago, shortly after they escaped from Fusion. Castiel thought he was also good at this, at least he felt that way after rendering Dean speechless a few times, but right now he feels as though he has nothing on Dean as far as seduction goes.

            Their kisses turn more heated, Dean’s tongue insistently pushing into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel likes it, he more than likes it, which is why he has to stop now, before he loses all of his willpower and they end up in bed all day.

            Castiel pulls away, panting and breathless. “ _Dean._ ”

            This isn’t the first time this has happened and Dean knows that tone. “Alright, alright. What do you want, Cas?” Dean says teasingly and keeps running his hands along Castiel’s body like he’s still trying to distract him.

            For a moment, Castiel is tempted to just say _you_ and pick up where they left off, but he needs to do this, today. “I need to visit my old home, today. As soon as possible. ”

            Castiel runs his hand along Dean’s hip, ignoring the way Dean’s hands still and the look of seriousness that’s come over his expression.

            “They’re blocking that off tomorrow aren’t they?”

            Cas nods, remaining silent. He wants to say one last goodbye to the place, he needs to. It’s been put off long enough and he has no more time to do so. He’ll never completely have his piece of mind otherwise.

            Dean’s hands resume their movements. They’re slower now, no longer seducing, but comforting.

            “Of course, Cas. We’ll go.”

            “Thank you.”

            There’s a heavy pause between them and Dean ends it by cupping Castiel’s face in his hands and meets his gaze. Cas likes when Dean is acting serious much of the time, but he doesn’t like to see that solemn look on his face here, when their legs are tangled beneath the covers and their bodies are pressed together as close as possible. He prefers to see Dean smile in these scenarios, so he grins and in a burst of confidence, pushes Dean back onto the bed. There’s a surprised grunt from Dean as Castiel straddles him.

            Castiel smirks as Dean’s eyes widen. “For now, let’s pick up where we left off.”

Xxx

It’s a forty minute drive to the abandoned mine shaft that was Castiel’s home. Apparently a lot of technology had gone into making the place livable and much of it was removed so people couldn’t go in and hurt themselves, one of the things being the elevator that had served as a symbol for the future back when Castiel was an angel. He’s disappointed but unsurprised he won’t be able to go visit his old living quarters, but standing outside of it will have to do.

Dean walks a few steps behind as Castiel walks under the caution tape with a wooden cross and his old blue tie in hand. Castiel had explained a bit more about the angel boot camp that he once called home on the way over. The culture, rules, limitations, family, everything. When he talks about it, it doesn’t seem so different from here. Not entirely anyway. It’s only when he pictures it and thinks about it all does he realize his old home and his new one couldn’t be more different.

There’s more caution tape around the now empty elevator shaft that drops down into his home. He would surely die if he jumped, he’s not willing to test the theory. He remembers how high that contraption climbed back when they would all watch as their leaders left under orders from God.

“Careful, Cas.” Dean warns, reaching for his hand. “I don’t want you falling on me.”

Castiel laughs without humor. “I’ve already fell, that’s why I’m here.”

Dean frowns, he doesn’t like it when he goes bitter over his current human status. He isn’t bitter, not anymore, but sometimes he can’t help but wish he had the power that his leaders always promised him.

The cross in his hand is starting to feel heavy in more than just the physical sense. He should place it soon. Probably by the hole in the ground that will serve as a grave. Dean hasn’t asked about it yet, which surprises him because Dean has been staring at it since they went and bought it this morning. Dean didn’t even question him when he said he wanted it, just bought it for him.

“You’re too good to me, you know.” Castile finds himself saying. He hadn’t intended to say it, but he feels it.

Dean smirks, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead his eyes glance to the cross again and Castiel knows he’s finally going to ask about it now.

“Why do you have that, Cas?”

Castiel pauses, considers his answer. He gives a gentle tug on Dean’s hand to lead him over to softer soil, before stabbing the cross into the ground. “I’m here to bury an angel, Dean.”

Dean blinks at him in confusion. “What?”

“I was an angel once, I’m not anymore. I remember what you said before Dean, how angels walk Earth in human forms, but I just want to put all that behind me.” Castiel confesses, squeezing Dean’s hand. “I’m more than fine with living a human life now.”

The blue tie that used to be Castiel’s favorite rests over top of the cross. Castiel spares the place one last look and smiles, walking with Dean back to the Impala, a lazy arm resting around the former angel’s shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading


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